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r--  r 


V 


/Av.r//ir  fuo\7  Mouftntn 


EDITION  DE  LUXE 


HERN ANI 

A DRAMA  IN  FIVE  ACTS 


BY 

VICTOR  HUGO 


ILLUSTRATED  WITH  NUMEROUS  COMPOSITIONS  BY  ADRIEN 
MOREAU,  ETCHED  BY  CHAMPOLLION 


BOSTON 

ESTES  AND  LAURIAT 

1894 


EDITION  DE  LUXE 


This  Edition  is  limited  to  Five  Hundred  Copies, 

OF  WHICH  THIS  IS  NO.  9 


Knibcrsitg  yrrss: 

John  Wilson  and  Son,  Camiiridge,  U.S.A. 


(yx.^  - 


IIERNANL 


DRAMATIS  PERSONiE. 


IIeenani. 

Don  Carlos. 

Don  Leo  de  Sylva. 

Don  Henkiquez. 

The  Duke  of  Bavaria. 

The  Duke  of  Gotha. 

Don  Matthias. 

Don  Kicwrdo. 

De  Haro. 

Duke  Alcala. 

Duke  Parma. 

King  of  Bohemia. 

First  Conspirator. 

Second  Conspirator. 

A iloUNTAINEER. 

Black  Domino. 

Donna  Zanthe. 

JOSEPIIA. 

ISADORE. 

Conspirators  of  the  Holy  League,  Germans  and  Spaniards,  Moun- 
taineers, Lords,  Soldiers,  Pages,  Folk,  etc. 


SPAIN,  1519. 


':s 


ku 


Leoa  Bodsson  sc 


HERNANI. 


ACT  I. 

Scene.  — A bed  chamber.  Night.  A lamp  on  a table;  door  of  a 
closet,  L.  2 E.;  a small  door,  r.  c. ; a door  r.  2 E. ; door  of 
entrance,  L.  c. ; a table,  R.  c.,  and  chairs.  Josepha  discovered  at 
embroidery.  A knocking  heard  at  a small  door  on  the  R.  C. ; she 
listens ; knocking  a second  time. 

JOSEPHA. 

He  knocks.  Yet  sure ’t  is  scarcely  yet  his  time  ! 

[^Knocking  heard  a third  time. 
Yes,  ’tis  his  signal.  And  from  thence  it  comes. 

No  loiterer  he.  \_Goes  to  the  door,  R.  c.,  and  opens  it. 

Don  Carlos  enters,  wrapped  in  a cloak,  and  a broad  hat 
covering  his  eyes. 

JOSEPHA. 

Good  day,  young  cavalier.  \_Looks  closer.'] 

Ah  ! ’t  is  a stranger.  Ho  ! within  there  ! help  1 

DON  CARLOS  {seizing  her  arm). 

Another  word,  old  woman,  is  thy  last. 

Save  at  my  pleasure.  Thou  art  dumb ; ’t  is  well  — 

Then  is  there  reason  in  thee  ! Answer  me : 

This  chamber  is  the  privacy,  is ’t  not. 

Of  Donna  Zanthe,  — she  that  is  affianced 

VOL.  XIII.  — 1 


2 


IIERNANI. 


To  wed  her  kinsman,  old  Don  Leo  Gomez  ? 

The  veteran,  that  despite  grey  hairs,  yet  vaunts 

A soul  as  fiery  in  love  or  war 

As  we  of  nimbler  pulse  and  rounder  limb  ! 

Is ’t  so  ? 


JOSEPHA. 

It  is.  This  is  her  chamber,  signor. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Good.  And  the  fair  betrothed  yields,  as  I think. 
To  strange  disloyal  fancies  : dreams  o’  nights. 
While  Grey-beard  sleeps  securely,  of  a chin 
Furnished  in  daintier  fashion,  of  moustachios 
Sleek  and  ungrizzled,  that  encumber  not 
The  lips  of  love,  and  above  all,  an  eye. 

Stood  rival  legions  armed  against  his  hopes. 
Would  look  a fierce  defiance  to  them  all, — 

How ’s  this,  old  dame  ? 


JOSEPHA. 

You  bade  me  hold  my  peace. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Save  at  my  pleasure,  that  will  have  thee  speak. 
And  quickly.  For  thy  conscience  and  discretion. 
This  gripe  acquits  them  both.  Wilt  answer  me  ? 

JOSEPHA. 

I will. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Your  amorous  dotard  is  abroad,  no  doubt? 


He  is. 


JOSEPHA. 


HERNANI. 


The  youth  expected  ? 
Yes. 


DON  CARLOS. 

JOSEPHA. 


DON  CARLOS. 

And  here  the  turtles  are  to  meet  and  coo. 


JOSEPHA. 

So  you  spoil  not  their  cooing. 

DON  CARLOS. 

That  may  happen. 

Conceal  me. 

JOSEPHA. 

Lo,  the  door  by  which  you  entered 
Is  open,  signor,  and  the  city ’s  wide. 
Go  and  conceal  yourself. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Here,  in  this  chamber. 

Find  me  a hiding  place. 


JOSEPHA. 

Find  you  ? For  what  ? 

What  seek  ye  with  my  mistress  ? 


DON  CARLO& 


I — oh ! nothing. 


JOSEPHA. 


What  then  with  me  ? 


DON  CARLOS. 

Nay,  truly,  nothing  either. 


Begone  then. 


JOSEPHA. 


4 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

In  good  time.  Wilt  hide  me  ? 


Never. 


JOSEPIIA. 


DON  CARLOS. 

I have  some  precious  metals  here  may  help  me. 

[^Draws  from  his  girdle  a dagger  and  a purse. 
Wilt  please  you  choose  between  them,  — 

Steel  or  gold  ? 

JOSEPHA. 

You  are  the  devil,  then. 


To-night  I am. 


DON  CARLOS. 


JOSEPHA. 

I think  so  ; and  despite  my  sanctity, 
I needs  must  hold  a candle  to  thee. 


Wisely  resolved. 


DON  CARLOS. 


Give  me  thy  gold. 
Now  enter  here. 


JOSEPHA. 

’T  is  lusty,  faith  ! 

[^Takes  it,  then  opens  a closet,  L. 


DON  CARLOS  (crosses  to  the  closet). 
Here  ! Art  thou  mad,  old  lady  ? 

What  fiddle-case  is  this  ? I could  not  thrust 
My  cloak  in  it. 

JOSEPHA. 

You  ’ll  find  no  other  here, 

Depend  on’t;  so,  since  hiding  is  your  pleasure. 
If  ’tis  a fiddle-case,  he  you  the  fiddle. 


HERNANI. 


You  ’ll  not  be  first,  that  I can  tell  you,  signor. 
Nor  like  to  make  much  music  in  our  concert. 

DON  CARLOS  (entering). 

If  I out  come  alive,  it  must  be  quickly. 

JOSEPHA. 

Hark ! I hear 

My  mistress  coming.  Shut  the  door. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Now,  mark  me : 

Unless  you ’d  have  the  steel,  as  well  as  gold, 
Be  trusty.  Not  a word ! 


JOSEPHA. 

I shall  remember.  \_Shuts  Ivim  in."] 

Who  can  the  savage  be  ? What  brings  him  here  ? 
Shall  I be  bold  and  call  for  help  ? From  whom  ? 
All  in  the  palace  sleep  except  myself 
And  Donna  Zanthe.  Then  I ’ll  keep  my  counsel. 
The  brave  Hernani  cannot  tarry  long. 

And  let  him  look  to  it.  His  gold  may  fail. 

But  for  his  steel,  he  ’ll  match  witli  this  gallant, 

I ’ll  warrant  him. 

Enter  Donna  Zanthe  r.  2 e. 


Josepha ! 
Madam. 


ZANTHE. 

JOSEPHA. 


ZANTHE. 

I begin  to  fear 

Some  accident.  Hernani  should  be  here 
Ere  this.  Have  you  not  heard  his  signal  ? 


6 


IIERNANI. 


JOSEPHA. 

No,  madam.  Once  I fancied  I had  heard  it, 

But  found  I was  mistaken. 

ZANTHE  {listening). 

Didst  not  hear 
A footstep  ? 

JOSEPHA. 

No.  At  night  one  hears  so  plainly  — 

Dogs,  cats,  and  other  restless  animals 

That  fidget  strangely.  Some  such  thing  you  heard. 

ZANTHE. 

No,  no,  his  step  approaches.  To  the  door 

Before  he  knocks.  [josepha  crosses  to  R.  D.,  opens  it. 

[Hernani  enters  in  a large  cloak  and  hat,  and  leneath, 
the  dress  of  a Mountaineer  of  Arragon,  grey,  with  a 
cuirass  of  leather,  wearing  a sword,  a poniard  sus- 
pended from  his  left  shoulder,  and  a horn  in  his 
girdle. 

HERNANI. 

Donna  Zanthe ! 

Do  I again  behold  thee  ? hear  my  name 
Uttered  by  thy  sweet  voice,  whose  music  dwells 
Forever  on  my  fancy,  lulling  me 
Even  on  my  mountain  couch  with  happy  dreams  ? 

zanthe. 

Heavens ! 

Your  cloak  is  drenched.  Has  it  then  rained  so  hard  ? 
HERNANI. 

I mark’d  it  not. 


IIERNANI. 


7 


You  must  be  cold. 


ZANTHE. 


’T  is  nothing. 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE. 

Nay,  let  me  dry  thy  mantle. 

Thou’rt  cold  I ’m  sure ; let  me  have  fire  to  cheer  thee. 


HERNANI  {his  hand  to  his  breast). 

Here, 

Here  resides  a power 
To  mock  the  elements,  or  storm  for  storm 
Encounter  them,  — a fire  that  sets  at  nought 
The  falling  torrent  or  the  wintry  blast. 

Eeel  this  wild  pulse.  These  water-drops  refresh  me. 

ZANTHE  {taking  his  cloak). 

But  this  encumbers  you  — and  this  {his  sword)  — I ’ll 
take  them. 


HERNANI. 

Nay,  not  my  good  sword,  unless  for  jealousy  — 

Of  one  more  friend,  constant  and  true  as  thou  art ; 

A friend  well  proved  and  trusty.  Your  duke  — your 
lord 

(Your  lord  so  named  abroad  by  every  voice)  — 

Where  is  he  ? 

ZANTHE. 

Speak  not  of  him  now.  This  hour 
Belongs  to  us. 

HERNANI. 

This  hour,  — alas  ! it  may  be 

This  and  no  more,  — a bright  and  starry  hour 

In  one  long  night  of  darkness  — desolation  ! [crosses  to  L. 


8 


HERNANI. 


Hernani ! 


ZANTHE. 


HERNANI  {Utterly). 

Yet  this  hour  I must  enjoy, 

Be  proud  to  steal  one  hour  of  love  from  him 
Who  robs  me  of  my  life  to  come. 


ZANTHE. 

Nay,  calm  thee.  Good  Josepha,  dry  his  mantle. 

\_Exit  Josepha  with  mantle,  e.  2 e. 

ZANTHE  {takes  a seat  L.  of  table  and  beckons  Hernani). 
Come,  come  and  sit  by  me. 


HERNANI. 

The  Duke  is  absent,  then  ? 


ZANTHE. 

Nay,  think  not  of  him ! [Rising  and  coming  down  C. 

HERNANI. 

Not  think  of  him ! You  mock  me.  Hath  he  not 
A burning  love  for  thee  ? Have  I not  seen 
His  withered  lips  imprint  on  thine  a kiss  ? 

ZANTHE. 

’T  was  a kinsman’s  kiss. 

And  such  as  fathers  to  their  children  give. 


HERNANI. 

A kiss  thou  art  unschooled  in,  — such  a kiss 
’T  would  madden  me  to  think  thou  could’st  requite. 

I cry  you  mercy.  I offend,  perhaps. 

His  blooming  bride.  You  doubtless  wed  him  freely; 


HERNANI. 


n 


ZANTHE. 

I have  shown  pity  for  an  inward  grief 

That  long  oppressed  him,  and  he  hath  been  to  me 

A kind  protector  and  a loving  kinsman  ; 

But  with  my  own  good-will  I ne’er  will  wed  him. 

HERNANI. 

Not  with  thy  own  good-will  ? Dost  think  the  lunatic 
Will  forge  thy  chains  of  iron  ? 

ZANTHE. 

The  King,  ’t  is  said,  will  have  it  so. 

HERNANI  {surprised  and  much  excited). 

The  King  ! the  King ! 

A heavier,  bitterer  curse 

Than  all  I yet  have  breathed,  now  light  on  him. 

My  noble  father  on  the  scaffold  died. 

Condemned  by  his ! Sworn  and  relentless  foes. 

Full  thirty  years  their  strife  endured.  The  grave 
Has  closed  on  both.  But  in  their  sons  their  hate, 

Sacred  inheritance,  survives  more  fiercely. 

My  love  for  thee,  that  for  a time  had  seemed 
To  soothe  my  stubborn  rancour,  arms  it  now 
With  sting  more  deadly.  Carlos  of  Castile ! 

I ’ve  hunted  thee  as  famished  wolves  their  prey  ; 
Watched,  traced  thee  like  a bloodhound.  In  good  time 
Thou  com’st  athwart  my  path.  Thou  ’rt  welcome 

heartily.  [Crosses  to  R 

ZANTHE. 

You  terrify  me. 

HERNANI. 

Hear  me.  The  man  to  whom  foul  tyranny 
Would  link  thy  youth,  is  a grandee,  rich,  powerful. 


10 


HERNANI. 


His  youth  is  past,  — long  past.  Thy  heart’s  free  throb 
Of  honest  sympathy  can  ne’er  be  his. 

What  then  ? Thou  ’It  be  a duchess  ; move  in  pageants, 
Bravely  apparell’d  as  the  Queen  herself ; 

Thy  sphere  a court ; thy  home  a palace  ! I 
Am  poor ; in  woods  and  wilds  I dwell, 

And  live  as  lives  the  tiger.  It  may  chance 
I have  my  blazon  of  nobility, 

Tho’  a brave  father’s  blood  may  somewhat  rust  it ; 

Eights  and  titles 

In  the  black  scaffold-cloth  enveloped  long. 

Which  this  good  sword  may  one  day  bring  to  light. 
Meantime  the  beam  that  blesses  all,  the  free 
And  common  elements,  are  all  my  portion. 

I cannot  waste  my  heart  in  jealous  fears : 

This  hour  unites,  or  else  forever  parts  us. 

Decide,  then.  Wed  thy  duke  — or  follow  me. 

ZANTHE. 

I ’ll  follow  thee. 

HERNANI. 

Thou  wilt  ? Eash  maid  ! Thou  ’It  share  a lot  like  mine  \ 
For  noble  as  I am  by  birth,  by  nature 
The  friend  of  man,  the  foe  alone  of  tyrants, 

I am  proclaimed  an  outlaw.  Throughout  Spain 

The  death-shout  hath  pursued  me,  till  secure 

Amid  old  Catalonia’s  wilderness 

Of  savage  rocks,  I stood  at  bay 

And  won  her  lusty  mountaineers  in  troops 

To  stand  by  me.  This  horn  now  musters  them, 

Three  thousand  strong  ! You  tremble  ! Such  is  he 
Thou  lov’st.  Think  well  on ’t ! Caves  and  dark  ravines 
Our  only  shelter ; couched  on  the  bare  earth ; 

Fed  by  the  changeful  fortune  of  the  chase. 

Or  hostile  plunder ; every  sound  a laruiu 


K Michclcna  inv 


HERNANI. 


11 


To  lynx-eyed  caution,  yielding  not  an  hour 
Of  tranquil  rest  — oh  ! think,  day  after  day. 

To  wander  with  me  thus ; it  may  be,  follow  me 
Where  I my  father  follow,  — to  the  scaffold. 

ZANTHE. 

I ’ll  follow  thee  ! 

HERNANI. 

The  Duke  will  have  thee  pillowed 

On  softest  down ! The  Duke  lives  proud  in  favour. 

His  name  untarnished,  his  escutcheon  bright  — 

ZANTHE  (eagerly). 

I ’ll  follow  thee.  To-morrow  will  we  fly. 

I owe  my  life  to  thee.  1 am  thine. 

The  spell  that  won  thee 

Three  thousand  followers  hath  won  me  too. 

With  thee  I ’ll  wander,  or  with  thee  abide. 

To  see  thee,  hear  thee,  know  and  share  thy  fortunes, 
Is  all  I ask.  Oh ! we  will  never  part. 

When  thy  last  footstep  hath  escaped  my  ear 
My  heart  no  longer  seems  to  beat  — entombed 
And  dead  within  my  bosom ; dead  to  all  things  — 
Till,  heard  afar,  the  sweet  returning  music 
Dissolves  the  trance  and  brings  me  life  again. 


HERNANI. 

Was  I reserved  for  this  ! Unlooked-for-hour  ! 

Such  love  is  only  woman’s ; it  hath  changed 
My  tyrant  heart,  abashed  by  selfish  will. 

And  now  I shudder  at  my  rash  demand. 

For  yet  you  know  not  half  the  history  — 

[^Here  Don  Carlos  hreahs  from  the  closet,  L.,  with  a vio- 
lent crash.  Zanthe  shrieks  and  clings  to  Hernani. 


12 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Your  history  ’s  too  long.  You  that  are  fond 
Of  air  should  have  more  mercy  for  a man, 
Stifled  as  I have  been. 


Who  is  this  man  ? 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE. 

I know  not ! Sure,  some  robber. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Softly,  Donna. 

My  crippled  limbs  have  had  such  lame  amends 
In  satisfaction  of  my  eyes  or  ears 
That  who  your  favoured  visitor  may  be 
’T  were  rash  to  guess  at ; yet  I scarcely  think 
Our  fellowship  will  much  disgrace  him. 


Leave  us. 


ZANTHE. 


HERNANI  {crosses  to  C.). 
What  seek  you  here  ? 


DON  CARLOS. 

First  let  me  know,  rough  sir. 

Your  proud  authority  to  question  me. 

What  if  I seek  an  hour  or  two’s  diversion  ? 


HERNANI. 

Unless  your  will  bequeath  it  to  your  heir. 

Your  raillery  may  be  brief. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Nay,  every  man 

His  turn.  I have,  with  all  due  courtesy. 

Allowed  you  yours,  and  claim  requital,  signor. 

That  you  should  love  this  lady’s  bright  black  eyes. 


IIERNANI. 


13 


I marvel  not ; for  by  St.  Dominick 
I love  them  too,  and  could  not  choose  but  know 
The  youth  who  found  o’  nights  such  prompt  admittance 
While  I stood  patient  sentinel  below. 


IIERNANI. 

I ’d  have  your  curiosity  provoke 
No  further  knowledge  of  him.  Hence  ! 


DON  CARLOS. 

Your  pardon. 

Of  you  I know  enough ; but  for  the  lady  [crosses  to  c.], 
She  is  a mine  so  rich  in  sweet  instruction 
As  may  excuse  my  tarrying  to  explore. 

A boon  I ask,  for  her  sake  and  for  yours. 

The  steed  who  walks  an  undisputed  course 
Wins  an  inglorious  race.  I may  afford  you 
A trophy  for  your  victory,  and  exercise 
The  lady’s  judgment  with  a choice  at  least. 

ZANTHE. 

I know  you  not.  How  got  you  here  admittance  ? 


DON  CARLOS. 
I was  mistaken  for  a happier  man. 
But  not  so  well  disposed  of. 


IIERNANI. 


Insolent ! 


DON  CARLOS. 

If  thus  you  swell,  keep  clear  of  yonder  closet ; 
You  would  explode  as  quickly  there  — 


IIERNANI. 


As  now 


!My  sword  would  quit  its  scabbard. 


[Draws. 


14 


IIERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS  {crossing  u.,  draws  also). 
Give  it  air ; 

We  ’ll  fiud  it  exercise. 


ZANTIIE. 

Hernani ! hold ! 

For  my  sake  ! \_Throws  herself  between  them. 

HERNANI  {puts  her  across  to  his  L.). 

’T  is  an  ill-placed  quarrel,  sir ; 

An  honest  foe  in  fitter  time  will  end  it. 

Y our  name ! 

DON  CARLOS. 

In  fair  exchange  — yours  ? 

HERNANI. 

’T  is  a secret,  — 

Marr’d  in  its  purpose  by  a rash  disclosure. 

Reserved  for  one  into  whose  ear  I ’ll  whisper  it, 

AVlien  by  a conqueror’s  knee  transfixed  I hold  him 
And  plunge  my  dagger  in  his  heart. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Brave  talking  I 

Y'our  vengeance  in  contingency  is  deadly, 

Y"our  present  wisely  sacrificed. 

HERNANI. 

No  more  ! Defend  yourself ! 
\Theg  draw.  Zanthe  in  despair.  Loud  knocking  heard 
at  the  D.  L.  c. 

ZANTHE. 

We  are  surprised  ! Oh,  heavens  ! 

[The  combatants  pause.  JosEi’HA  enters  at  the  door  R.  2 E. 
in  great  alarm. 


HERNANI. 


15 


HERNANI. 

Wlio  knocks  so  loud  ? 


JOSEPHA. 

Oh,  madam  ! Fatal  chance  ! 

It  is  the  Duke  returned. 


ZANTHE. 

The  Duke  ! I ’m  lost ! 


HERNANI. 

This  way,  we  ’ll  fly.  [Crosses  to  R.  c.]. 

JOSEPHA. 

’T  is  guarded  from  without. 

DON  LEO  {without  L.  C.). 

Admit  me,  Zanthe. 

HERNANI  {to  JosEPHA,  who  IS  going  to  the  door). 
Woman,  stay ! 

JOSEPHA. 

Good  saints  defend  us  ! we  are  all  undone. 

HERNANI  {to  Don  Carlos). 

We  must  conceal  ourselves. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Where  ? [Hernani  points  to  eloset,  L. 

You  ’ll  excuse  me. 

What ! two  such  panting  spirits  ! We  should  shake 
Tlie  very  walls.  You,  signor,  where  you  will ; 

I care  not  to  encounter  duke  or  devil. 

And  here  I stand. 


16 


IIERNANI. 


IIERNANI. 

This  outrage  shall  o’ertake  you. 


DON  CARLOS  {to  JOSEPHA), 


Open  the  door. 


HERNANI. 


Are  you  then  mad  ? 


DON  CARLOS  (more  imperatively). 

Open  the  door ! 

JOSEPHA. 

I will.  \^Runs  tremhliny  to  the  door. 


ZANTHE. 

Mercy ! 

[The  door,  L.  c.,  is  opened,  and  enter  Don  Leo  de  Sylva, 
followed  by  Attendants  with  liyhts  ; he  is  dressed  in 
black,  and  wears  the  Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece. 


DON  LEO. 

So,  my  fair  cousin,  you’ve  your  midnight  audience. 
To  which  I scarce  am  welcome  ! Lights  here,  ho ! 
This  is  a scene  worthy  of  witnesses. 

Why  what  wild  times,  young  cavaliers,  are  these  ? 
Is  this  that  same  Castile  that  boasted  once 
Her  Cid,  her  brave  Bernardo,  — giant  hearts 
Whose  pride  it  was  to  bear  about  the  world 
A shield  for  the  oppress’d,  reverence  for  age. 

And  to  unspotted  beauty  bend  the  knee 
Of  chivalrous  devotion ! 

What  seek  you  here  ; is  he 

Who  fought  at  Zamora  beneath  defiance. 

And,  for  a few  grey  hairs,  to  be  cajoled 
By  ribald  practices  like  these  ? 


IIERNANI. 


17 


Great  Duke  — 


HERNANI. 


DON  LEO. 

Be  silent.  Have  ye  not  your  games  and  pastimes, 
Your  hunting  and  your  falconry,  your  masques, 
Your  revels  and  carousals,  that  ye  now 
Will  madly  sport  — 

HERNANI. 

Good  signor,  let  me  say  — 


DON  LEO. 

Say  nothing ; you  are  born  but  to  obey  me. 


Your  tone ! — 


HERNANI. 


DON  LEO. 

My  tone  is  courteous  — does  ye  honour. 

Boys  — triflers  — if  ye  know  not  who  I am. 
Follow  me  ! What!  the  honour  of  my  house. 
The  honour  of  my  chosen  wife,  — a maid 
Pure  as  the  mountain  snow  which  summer  suns 
Irradiate  and  melt  not,  in  my  charge, 

And  such  as  you  invade  it ! Dauntless  felons  ! 
Are  these  the  treasures  you  would  rob  me  of  ? 
]\Ie  ! a De  Sylva  ! Blood  of  my  ancestors  ! 

Am  I become  a byeword  ? 


ZANTHE. 

My  lord  — 

DON  LEO  {to  his  Attendants). 
My  squires,  to  arm  me  ! haste. 

My  hatchet  and  Toledo  rapier  1 Follow  me ! 
Follow  me,  both ! 

VOL.  XIII.  — 2 


18 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS  (checking  him). 

Be  patient,  Duke ; your  prowess 

Or  ours  is  not  the  qi;estion  now.  My  business 

Concerns  the  death  of  Maximilian, 

Late  Emperor  of  Germany. 


DON  LEO. 


D’  ye  mock  me  ? 


DON  CARLOS. 


No,  Duke. 

[^Throws  off  his  mantle,  and  exposes  his  faee  hy  raising 
his  hat. 

DON  LEO. 


The  King ! {^Kneels. 
The  King ! 


ZANTHE. 


HERNANI  (strongly  excited). 
The  King  of  Spain  ! 


DON  CARLOS  (tO  DON  Leo). 

Your  sovereign  and  your  friend.  How  now?  Don  Leo, 
Is  your  blood  still  so  hot  ? This  great  event 
Hath  scarcely  reached  me,  and  at  once  I come. 

In  all  expedient  haste  and  privacy. 

To  you,  my  well-beloved  and  trusty  minister. 

For  counsel  on’t.  A simple  case,  methinks. 

To  stir  so  loud  a clamour. 


DON  LEO. 

Sire,  I crave 

Your  pardon ; but  so  long  denied  admittance  — 
DON  CARLOS. 

It  was  your  privacy  I sought ; and  hearing 
A troop  of  lacqueys  at  your  heels  — 


HERNANI. 


19 


’T  is  true. 


DON  LEO. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Old  friend,  I thought  to  make  you  governor 
Of  Andalusia ; but  whom,  I pray. 

Must  I appoint  your  governor  ? 


DON  LEO. 

In  sooth 

’T  is  time  these  storms  were  hushed. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Enough ; and  since 

This  thunder-cloud  is  passed,  we  ’ll  to  our  purpose. 
The  Emperor,  my  ancestor,  ’t  is  certain, 

Is  dead. 

DON  LEO. 

On  whom  is ’t  thought 

Will  fall  the  election  to  his  envied  throne  ? 

DON  CARLOS. 

They  name,  as  on  the  list  of  candidates, 

A certain  Duke  of  Saxony,  and  Francis  — 

DON  LEO. 

Your  Highness  means  — 


DON  CARLOS. 

Francis  the  First  of  France. 

DON  LEO. 

A promising  aspirant ! Where,  my  liege. 
Hold  the  electors  their  assembly  ? 


20 


HERNANl. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Faith, 

I ’m  ill  informed ; Aix-la-Chapelle,  or  Spires, 
Or  Frankfort,  possibly. 


DON  LEO. 

And  has  your  Highness 

(Whom  Heaven  still  prosper)  never  yet  himself 
Thought  of  the  empire  ? 


Constantly. 

My  liege, 

’T  is  yours  by  right. 


DON  CARLOS. 
DON  LEO. 


I know  it. 


DON  CARLOS. 


DON  LEO. 

Every  right,  — 

Your  father  was  Archduke  of  Austria, 
And  he  who  quits  the  purple  for  a shroud 
Your  ancestor  direct. 


DON  CARLOS. 

With  all  despatch 

I start  for  Flanders ; and  on  my  return. 

He  Sylva,  see  that  you  salute  me  Emperor. 

DON  LEO. 

’T  is  well. 

Yet,  ere  you  go,  let  me  remind  you,  sire. 

You  leave  a hydra-headed  foe  behind 
’T  were  better  you  disposed  of,  — the  hold  route 
Of  lawless  rebels  that  so  long  have  scourged 
Our  Arragon,  and  in  their  growing  strength 
Threaten  to  beard  us  in  our  very  streets. 


HERNANI. 


21 


DON  CARLOS. 

The  Duke  of  Arcos  has  command  and  power 
To  sweep  them  off  — 

DON  LEO. 

Brief  quittance,  sire.  Their  captain 
Heeds  little  of  your  sweeping  projects. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Psha ! In  Galicia  now  he  lurks,  and  soon 
Must  yield  him  to  his  fetters. 

DON  LEO. 

I Ve  assurance 
He  hovers  round  the  city. 

DON  CARLOS. 

You  ’re  deceived. 

What  matters  where ! To-night  we  lodge  with  you. 

DON  LEO  {with  vjarmth  and  respect). 

A royal  welcome.  Ho ! 

The  King ’s  our  guest. 

Do  him  all  honour. 

{Fresh  Attendants  appear  with  lights  ; the  Duke  motions 
them  into  ranhs  towards  the  R.  2 E.  Donna  Zanthe 
moves  cautiously  towards  Hernani  ; the  King  observes 
them. 

ZANTHE  {to  Hernani). 

To-morrow,  at  the  midnight  hour,  remember 
You  fail  me  not. 

HERNANI  {comes  down,  L.). 

To-morrow. 


22 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS  {turning  to  Hernani). 

I have  done  you,  sir,  the  honour 

To  measure  swords  with  you ; and  though  I fear 

That  honour  most  unworthily  conferred. 

To-night  I ’ll  not  betray  you.  Seek  your  safety ; 
I ’ll  cover  your  retreat. 

DON  LEO  {advancing,  observing  Hernani). 
Have  I neglected  — 


DON  CARLOS. 

One  of  my  suite,  — a confidential  follower ; 

I ’ve  sent  him  on  a charge.  Lead  on. 

{Exeunt  Don  Carlos,  Donna  Zanthe,  Don  Leo,  and  At- 
tendants, Don  Leo  with  a Jiamheau  before  the  King, 
R.  2 e.  Hernani  remains. 

hernani. 

One  of  thy  suite  ! thy  follo-wer  ! Aye,  while  life 
Or  motion  in  these  limbs  are  left,  by  day, 

By  night,  and  step  by  step,  I ’ll  dog  thee. 

No  courtier  of  thy  train,  whose  slavish  eye 
Still  strains  to  guess  at  each  caprice  in  thine. 

No  parasite  who  waits  thine  issuing  breath 
To  do  it  homage,  till  the  fulsome  poison 
Recoil  upon  his  nature,  shall  attend  thee 
With  half  so  keen  observance.  Thy  follower ! 

Aye,  closely  as  thy  shadow,  till  thyself. 

Proud  King,  art  but  a shadow  in  my  gripe. 

And,  spurning  thee,  I trample  on  a clod.  {Exit  R.  2 E. 


ibeUut.*.  ^ . 


ACT  II. 


Scene.  — The  outside  of  the  Palace  of  De  Sylva  ; a window  with  a 
balcony,  l.  2 e.  ; beneath,  a small  door  ; houses,  and  dwerginy 
streets  ; night ; lights  are  seen  at  various  windows  of  the  palace, 
and  a few  different  houses. 

JosEPHA  enters  L.  door. 

JOSEPHA. 

There,  she  sits  still,  and  takes  no  heed  of  me ; these 
strange  events  have  well-nigh  turned  her  head.  Poor 
lamb ! Three  lovers,  and  such  lovers  too,  are  qiiite 
enough  to  turn  any  head  that  stands  on  female  shoulders. 

Enter  Donna  Zanthe,  l. 

ZANTHE. 

Josepha ! is  the  King  gone  ? 

JOSEPHA. 

Gone,  child ! why,  did  n’t  you  see  him  go  ? 

ZANTHE. 

True,  true,  I did,  but  — I know  not  why  — 

I thought  he  might  be  returned. 

JOSEPHA. 

Nay,  sweet,  you  gave  him  but  small  encouragement  to 
return ; and  the  poor  dear  Duke  did  so  glory  to  see  thee 
so  cold  and  coy,  I vow  it  made  one’s  heart  ache  to  see 
the  good  old  soul  so  delude  himself.  Well,  well ! at  his 
years  he  ought  to  know  better,  that ’s  a sure  thing. 


24 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE. 

Josepha ! spare  me.  It  goes  hard  enough  with  me  to 
think  of  him. 

JOSEPHA. 

Aye,  marry,  and ’t  will  go  harder  with  him  when  he 
knows  the  truth,  as  I suppose  he  must,  soon ; eh,  lamb- 
kin ? How  is  it  to  end,  sweet  ? What  is  thy  purpose  ? 

ZANTHE  (lier  manner  bewildered). 

I have  none.  Fate  must  guide  me.  My  brain  shuts 
out  all  purpose,  all  reflection. 

JOSEPHA. 

And  the  visits  of  the  young  cavalier  — 


ZANTHE. 

Are  at  an  end.  With  my  consent  he  enters  here  no 
more. 


JOSEPHA. 

Thou  ’It  wed  Don  Leo,  then  ? 


I said  not  so. 


ZANTHE. 

JOSEPHA. 


Ah ! would  thou  hadst  never  said  so.  ’T  is  that  he 
relies  upon,  — that  thou  art  plighted  with  thy  consent. 


ZANTHE. 

Yet,  sure  he  does  me  wrong.  ’T  was  two  years  since. 
In  all  things  else,  ’t  is  said,  nor  law  nor  justice 
Will  have  the  child’s  rash  contract  bind  the  woman. 

I pledged  to  him  the  love  a husband  claims 
Ere  such  a love  I knew,  and  knowing  it. 

To  him  I feel  it  ne’er  can  be  assigned. 


[Crosses  to  L. 


HERNANI 


25 


JOSEPHA. 

Ah  ! ’t  is  plain,  sweet,  how  it  was  with  you.  His  first 
unfaithful  wife  had  made  him  wretched  for  many  a long 
year.  To  you  he  was  ever  kind ; you  pitied  his  sadness, 
loved  him  with  all  a young  heart’s  gratitude,  and  the  old 
fox  made  the  most  of  it. 


ZANTHE. 

Kevile  him  not,  nor  speak  thus  lightly  of  him. 

JOSEPHA. 

No,  truly,  he  is  not  for  light  treatment ! The  phantom 
Honour  is  the  idol  of  his  worship.  Did  n’t  he  make  a 
prisoner  of  the  late  Duchess  for  the  brief  remainder  of 
her  days  ? Ah,  well-a-day  ! Don  Leo  is  an  awful  man. 

ZANTHE. 

An  awful  man  he  is ; and,  kind  Josepha, 

It  is  not  well,  so  far  to  have  allured  thee 
From  thy  allegiance  to  him.  Shame  upon  me  ! 

But  I ’ll  be  wiser.  Best  to-night  in  safety  ; 

The  evening  wanes.  I would  retire  alone. 

And  bring  no  further  sin  upon  thee. 

JOSEPHA  (m  kind  reproach). 

Dost  thou  fear  me  ? 

ZANTHE. 

No,  but  I love  thee  ; and  if  thou  lovest  me. 

Go  to  thy  chamber,  and  come  not  to  mine.  \_Exit  L.  door. 

JOSEPHA. 

Alas,  poor  thing ! I know  not  what  is  in  thy  head, 
but  there  is  little  comfort  at  thy  heart,  I fear.  A woeful 
day  it  may  prove  for  thee,  when  this  gallant  mountaineer 


26 


HERNANI. 


stopped  thy  runaway  courser  on  the  verge  of  a precipice, 
to  lure  thee  to  a brink  more  dangerous.  The  stern  Don 
Leo  cares  little  for  old  Josepha’s  loyalty ; hut  if  thine 
fail  him,  woe  to  us  all ! \^Exit  L.  door. 

Enter  Don  Carlos,  Don  Heneiquez,  Don  Matthias, 
and  Don  Ricardo  in  cloaks,  r.  u.  e. 

DON  CARLOS. 

That  is  her  chamber,  friends.  ’T  was  there  Don  Carlos, 
Whose  mind  must  needs  range  empires,  found  his  person 
Suddenly  circumscribed  to  three  feet  square. 

That  is  her  window ; and  beneath,  the  door 
Sacred  to  love.  Can  she  have  changed  her  purpose  ? 

The  hour  is  nigh.  Yet  lights  are  everywhere, 

Save  there  where  I would  have  them. 


DON  IIENRIQUEZ. 

T ponder  still,  my  liege,  on  your  strange  rival. 
Who,  as  you  well  conjecture,  may  be  captain 
Of  these  marauding  rebels. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

Heard  you  his  name,  my  liege  ? 

DON  CARLOS. 

I nothing  heard 

Distinctly  ; ’t  was  Romani,  or  Fernani,  — 
Some  name  with  such  an  ending. 


’T  was  Hernani. 
It  was  so. 

Then ’t  was  he. 


DON  IIENRIQUEZ. 

DON  CARLOS. 
DON  MATTHIAS. 


HERNANI. 


27 


DON  RICARDO. 

Their  chief,  Heriiani. 

DON  HENRIQUEZ. 

And  could  your  Highness  let  him  thus  escape  ? 

DON  CARLOS  {turning  on  him  with  a grave  look). 

D’  ye  question  me,  my  lord  ? 

YI'hey  withdraw  in  deference  and,  respect. 
You ’d  set  a price 

Upon  his  head,  perhaps  ? Yet  it  becomes 
His  shoulders.  Nor  can  we  condemn  his  taste. 
Ambitious  as  it  is,  so  we  can  cheat  him 
Of  his  fair  mistress,  to  his  head  he ’s  welcome. 

Now,  friends,  be  firm,  resolute.  Her  signal 
I know.  The  lovers  both  must  be  secured. 

We  ’ll  share  the  task,  — that  is,  you  ’ll  understand. 

The  lady  shall  be  mine,  and  yours  the  bandit. 

DON  HENRIQUEZ. 

You’ve  chosen  well,  my  liege. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Bar  his  approach,  at  least.  Away  ! my  task 
I ’ll  answer  for. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

Your  Highness  will  confess ’t  is  not  hardest. 

[^Exeunt  Ricardo,  Matthias,  and  Henriquez,  r.  u.  e. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Now  for  her  signal. 

l^Claps  his  hands  thrice  deliberately,  and  Donna  Zanthe 
opens  the  casement  and  appears  at  the  balcony. 


Is  it  you,  Hernani  ? 


ZANTHE. 


28 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

I dare  not  answer  her.  [Repeats  the  signal. 

ZANTHE. 

I come ! I come ! 

[Closes  the  casement,  and  the  lights  disappear. 
DON  CARLOS. 

With  three  such  sentinels  we  are  secure 
Of  elbow-room  to  woo  her  royally. 

Zanthe  enters  from  the  little  door  beneath,  l. 

ZANTHE. 

Hernani ! 

[Going  to  R.,  he  advances  briskly  towards  her,  L. ; she  lets 
fall  the  light. 

Heavens  ! ’t  is  not  his  step ; I ’m  sure  on ’t. 

[Endeavours  to  retreat ; he  catches  her  in  his  arms. 

DON  CARLOS. 

My  life ! 

ZANTHE. 

’T  is  not  his  voice ! I ’m  lost ! 

DON  CARLOS. 

Fear  nothing. 

It  is  a voice  will  pledge  to  thee  a heart 
The  truest,  the  tenderest,  — a voice  of  power 
To  crown  thy  every  wish ; nay,  to  crown  thee  ! 

ZANTHE. 

The  King ! 

DON  CARLOS. 

And  would’st  thou  spiirn  his  fond  embrace  ? 

He  is  thy  slave.  A kingdom,  and  a life 
Of  love  he  offers  thee  for  thine. 


HERNANI. 


29 


Help ! help ! 


ZANTHE  {struggling). 
DON  CARLOS. 


’Gainst  whom  ? You  deal  not  with  a robber  now, 
But  with  a king,  — the  foe  and  scourge  of  robbers. 


ZANTIIE. 

’T  is  false  ! Thou  art  the  robber,  that  would  seek 
By  lawless  force  what  honour  hath  denied  thee ! 

Thou  stain’st  my  cheek  with  shame,  but ’t  is  for  thee,  — 
For  thee  and  thy  foul  purpose.  Were  it  honest, 

Would’st  thou  at  midnight  snare  a helpless  woman  ? 

And  darest  thou  talk  of  robbers,  — thou  ! Hernani 
Is  noble,  generous ; and  I tell  thee.  King, 

Were  each  man  station’d  where  his  heart  should  place 
him. 

The  sceptre  would  be  his,  the  dagger  thine. 

Was  not  my  father  noble  ? 


DON  CARLOS. 

I will  make 

Thee  greater.  Thou  shalt  be  a queen  — 

An  empress. 

ZANTIIE. 

’T  were  treason  ! I have  pledged,  as  woman  will. 

My  life  and  soul  in  bond  irrevocable 

By  human  power  tho’  tongue  had  never  shaped  it ; 

And  rather  would  I share  Hernani’s  fortune 
Ev’n  at  its  bleakest,  — cold  abandonment. 

War,  exile,  beggary,  and  worst  of  all. 

The  scourge,  great  King,  of  thine  immaculate  justice,  — 
Than  be  enthroned  an  empress  with  an  emperor. 

DON  CARLOS. 


You  hate  me,  then  ? 


30 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE. 

I love  you  not.  \_Crosses  to  L. 


DON  CARLOS  {with  increased  violence). 
No  matter! 


ZANTHE. 

Oh,  heavens ! my  liege,  behold  me  then  thy  suppliant. 
Be  gracious,  merciful.  What  1 when  around  thee 
Beauty  in  thronging  constellation  shines, 

Courting  thy  love,  and  eager  to  requite  it  ? 

And  what  has  he,  — the  branded,  the  proscribed  ? 

Canst  thou  not  cull  thy  joys 

Throughout  thy  rich  Castile  and  Arragon  ? 

And  would’st  thou,  sovereign  lord 

Of  this  wide  world  of  treasures,  rob  an  outcast 

Of  one  poor  heart,  who  has  but  that  on  earth  ? 


DON  CARLOS  {still  dragging  her). 

Tliy  words  are  breath  to  fire ! Hence,  hence,  my  world 
For  thee  and  for  thy  love;  claim  what  thou  wilt. 


ZANTHE. 

I ask  hut  one  thing. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Speak. 

ZANTHE  {snatching  a dagger  from  his  belt). 

I have  it. 

Now.  [The  King  falls  hack. 

Advance  one  step  — 

DON  CARLOS. 

I’  faith,  I marvel  not 

You  love  a rebel.  Yet ’t  were  sin  to  fear  thee. 

[Inclining  to  her. 


M.:-,hcIcn<  mv 


Leon  Boisson 


HERNANI. 


31 


ZANTHE. 

Forbear!  or  on  my  soul,  you  lightly  hold 

Your  life  and  mine.  Hernani ! ho!  Hernani! 

DON  CARLOS. 

Your  cries  are  vain.  I have  at  hand  to  aid  me 

Three  of  my  followers. 

HERNANI  {suddenly  appearing  from  R.  u.  E.). 

One  you  have  forgotten. 

'{Tlie  King  tu,rns  suddenly  round.  Hernani  stands  mo- 
tionless before  him,  enveloped  in  his  cloak,  his  hat 
slightly  raised.  Donna  Zanthe,  with  an  exclama- 
tion of  joy,  rushes  and  clings  to  him. 

Heaven  knows,  great  sir, 

I could  have  wished  our  place  of  meeting  now 

Had  been  at  fitter  distance  from  the  last. 


ZANTHE  (R.). 

Nay,  let  us  fly  from  him. 


HERNANI  {calmly). 

There  is  no  haste. 


DON  CARLO.S. 

Ho,  there,  cravens ! 

HERNANI. 


Your  friends  are  in  the  power  of  mine. 

Our  quarrel  here  must  end,  and  ’twixt  us  two. 
What ! you  have  laid  a hand  of  violence 
Upon  a noble  lady ! King  of  Spain, 

’T  was  a rash  act,  and  not  a valiant  one. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Peace,  thou  fantastic  ruffian  ! Dost  flatter  thee 
We  meet  as  yesternight  ? 


32 


IlERNANI. 


HERNANI. 

And  if  we  meet  not  as  equals, 

Dost  flatter  thee  pre-eminence  is  thine  ? 

Know’st  thou  the  throng  of  swelling  thoughts  that  now 
Uplift  me  o’er  the  mighty  space  between  us  ? 

Thou  art  a king ! and  what  is  he  whose  grasp 

[^Seizing  the  King’s  arm. 

Now  mocks  thy  majesty.  Hear  then,  and  know  me. 

Thy  father  was  the  murderer  of  mine  — 

I hate  thee  ! Thou  hast  despoiled  and  branded  me  — 

I hate  thee ! Thou  would’st  rob  me  of  her  love. 

For  whose  sake  I could  have  forgotten  thee  — 

I hate  thee  ! From  my  heart’s  deep  core  I hate  thee  ! 


Madman ! 


DON  CARLOS. 
HERNANI. 


In  an  unlook’d-for  hour  you  cross’d  us. 

To-night  I sought  her,  and  again  I found  you  ; 

But  in  thy  treacherous  snare  thyself  entangled. 

Thou  art  beleaguer’d,  and  must  do  me  right. 

Stand  to  thy  guard ! \_The  King  stirs  not.'\  Do  I defy  a 
coward  ? 


DON  CARLOS. 

One  way  alone  I ’ll  do  thee  right.  I scorn  thee  ! 


HERNANI. 

Scorn  me  ! Is  it  because 

Placed,  darkling,  in  my  power,  I have  forgone 

A bravo’s  justice  for  a soldier’s,  thou 

Believest  my  vengeance  air-blown  as  a woman’s  ? 

I ’ll  not  be  battled.  Draw  — 


DON  CARLOS. 
Against  thee?  Never! 

I am  king.  I will  not  fight  with  thee. 


HERNANI. 


33 


HERNANI. 

Do  you  forget  — 

DON  CARLOS. 


Last  night  we  both  were  maskers ; 

To-day  discloses  us  for  what  we  are. 

Thou  art  my  rebel  subject ; I am  thy  king. 


HERNANI. 

You  rave;  yet  urge  me  not. 


DON  CARLOS. 

I spurn  thy  challenge. 

Whistle  thy  gang.  Let  all  your  daggers  strike ! 
The  combat  I disdain. 

HERNANI. 

Of  this  I dreamed  not. 


DON  CARLOS. 

What ! dreamed  you  then  a king  could  he  entrapp’d 
To  play  thy  game,  and  aid  thy  broad  imposture, 

Gild  o’er  thy  crimes,  and,  stain’d  with  blood  and  plunder. 
Assist  thee  with  a garish  cloak  of  chivalry 
To  dazzle  a weak  woman  ? No  ; that  cloak 
I strip,  and  leave  thee  in  thy  naked  infamy. 

Stick  to  thy  trade.  Give  place,  or,  bravo,  stab  me ! 

HERNANI  (inwardly  strnggling). 

Hell! 

ZANTHE  (stopping  him). 

My  Hernani ! Wilt  thou  kill  the  King  ? 

That  King  so  long  the  friend  of  the  De  Sylvas ! 

For  thine  honour 

(Which  if  his  words  wrong,  let  not  thine  own  deeds), 

Fly  ! fly  ! and  heed  him  not. 

VOL.  XIII.  — 3 


34 


IIERNANI. 


iiERNANl  {to  the  King,  after  a struggle  and  convulsive 
movement  of  his  sword). 

You  are  free. 

Tlie  time  may  come  wheu  we  may  meet  as  equals, 

Each  at  the  head  of  armies.  \^The  King  smiles.']  Aye, 
an  army. 

]\Iy  gathering  bands  may  form  as  well  as  thine ; 

For  what  (save  numbers  only)  hath  conferr’d 
That  prouder  name  on  many  a robber  band 
Whose  deeds  make  us  illustrious  crusaders. 

And  kings,  to  spoil  and  trample  on  the  weak. 

By  fifty  thousands  lead  their  armies  forth, 

Wlio  hang  up  modest  fifty  as  banditti. 

Pass,  but  be  sure  you  will  not  be  forgotten. 

DON  CARLOS  (croSSeS  R.). 

Gramercy  ! Sir,  nor  you ; and  your  forbearance, 

I warn  you  still,  is  at  your  utmost  peril. 

I hold  thee  for  a traitor  and  a rebel. 

If  nothing  worse.  My  refuge  is  at  hand. 

With  power  unlimited,  to  crush  at  once 

Tliy  boast  and  thee.  Yet  with  this  notice,  signor, 

As  tranquilly  I turn  my  back  on  thee 

As  if  so  fierce  a foe  had  never  been.  [Exit  R. 

IIERNANI. 

What  trial  more  than  this  can  nature  prove  ? 

Do  I not  love  thee  now  ? 


ZANTIIE. 

Too  well ; and  yet 

The  King,  whate’er  his  threats,  is  ever  generous. 


IIERNANI. 

Tlie  King  hath  rarely  said  the  thing  he  means  not. 
Nor  lingers  in  the  act.  Ere  this  the  cry 


HERNANI. 


35 


Is  up.  The  lion  is  abroad  ; and  soon, 

Martial  and  civil,  grooms,  lacqueys,  magistrates, 
And  men  at  arms,  will  run  an  eager  race 
To  win  the  price  of  this  devoted  head. 

ZANTHE. 

Oh,  Heaven  defend  us ! Let  us  fly  at  once. 

HERNANI. 

Nay,  not  together ; let  my  hastening  doom 
Restore  thee  to  thy  safety.  Here  we  part. 

ZANTHE. 

Is  this  to  stab  me  with  reproach  ? 

HERNANI. 

Reproach  ? 

Oh ! though  the  only  light  that  yet  hath  cheer’d. 
How  blessedly ! my  dark  and  wintry  fortune,  — 
Sweet  comforter ! most  pure  and  beautiful. 

That  thro’  their  burning  channels  still  can  draw 
These  tears,  — not  an  eternity  of  torture 
Should  wring  from  me  one  bitter  thought  of  thee. 
Or  any  but  of  love,  of  boundless  love. 


Alas ! 


ZANTHE. 


HERNANI. 

But  when  assured,  and  in  my  sight  the  scaffold 
Stands  the  black  boundary  of  hope  and  fortune, 
Thy  path  be  far  from  mine. 


ZANTHE. 

Then  thou  art  false,  — 

To  me  more  cruel  than  thy  foes  to  thee. 
I cannot  leave  thee. 


36 


IIERNANI. 


HERNANI. 

Nay,  tliis  is  not  well. 

The  storm  that  rives  the  mountain  pine  may  spare 
The  flower  that  courts  its  shelter.  Shall  I drag 
Thee  down  a gulf  that  yawns  before  me,  blot 
Thy  maiden  fame  with  foul  disgrace  ? Away  ! 
Preserve  thy  life  and  honour.  Angels  guard  thee  ! 


ZANTHE. 

For  what  — if  I abandon  thee  ? Plead  not 
Against  my  right ; no,  I will  cling  to  thee 
Till  the  last  pulse  hath  fluttered  at  thy  heart, 
And  wrap  me  in  thy  winding  sheet. 


HEEXANI  {hreaking  from  her  to  E.). 


Eeturn ! 

Am  I cast  from  thee  ? 


ZANTHE. 

Here  then  will  I perish. 

[^Falls  on  the  ground. 


HERNANI  {alarmed  at  her  situation). 

So  desperate,  noble  Zanthe  ! 

Since  thou  wilt  have  it  so,  we  will  not  part. 

Hallowed  and  heaven-protected,  we  will  not  fear. 

Steals  not  now 

Peace  to  thy  bosom  ? Peerless  Donna  Zanthe, 

We  still  are  blessed ! Look  brightly  thro’  thy  tears. 

ZANTHE. 

I do ; I am  blest.  [^The  hells  of  the  city  are  heard  ringing 
an  alar7ni\  Ha  ! the  tocsin  ! 


HERNANI. 

No,  it  is  our  nuptial  peal. 

{The  clamour  increases.  Shouts  are  heard,  R. ; a glare  of 
torches  through  the  streets. 


HERNANI. 


37 


ZANTHE. 

Rise,  rise,  and  fly  ! The  city ’s  roused  ! The  glare 
Approaches ! 

HERNANI. 

’T  is  to  light  us  to  our  bridal. 


ZANTHE. 

To  light  thee  to  thy  tomb. 

HERNANI. 

My  lovely  bride ! 

Thus  will  we  give  them  welcome. 

[^Clasps  her  with  his  left  arm. 

A Mountaineer  enters,  with  drawn  sword,  r. 

MOUNTAINEER. 

We  are  surprised. 

The  Sbirri,  the  Alcaldi  and  their  followers 
Beset  us  closely. 

ZANTHE. 

And  I have  delayed  thee  ! 

HERNANI. 

Rally  as  you  may.  I follow. 

[^Cries  without,  R.]  This  way  ! upon  them.  [Shouts,  R 

HERNANI  {to  ZaNTIIE). 

Since  it  must  be  so, 

Farewell ! 

ZANTHE. 

You  rush  upon  destruction.  Here 

With  me  you  still  may  shelter.  [Points  to  door,  l. 

HERNANI. 

And  desert  my  gallant  friends  ? 


[Goimj,  R. 


38 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE  {calling). 

Hernani ! Thou  wilt  strive  to  save  thee  ! 

HERNANI  {returning). 

Aye,  by  this  holy  pledge  I now  first  dare 

To  print  upon  thy  cheek.  Farewell.  \_Kisses  her  cheek. 

\_Shouts  and  clash  of  swords  continued  till  end  of  act. 

ZANTHE. 

Farewell ! 

[Hernani  rushes  out,  r.  She  totters,  exhausted,  towards 
the  portico.  Josepha  enters  from  the  door  under  the 
balcony,  L.  Zanthe  falls  against  a pillar  of  the  por- 
tico. Josepha  hastens  to  her  assistance,  and  the  cur- 
tain falls  quickly. 


A It^deai  air  - ' ' ' i »c 


rfr. 


A.VichcIeni  iftT 


ACT  III. 


ScKNE. — Interior  of  the  CaMle  of  De  Sylva,  in  the  mountains  of 
Arragon.  A gallery  of family  portraits,  which  are  surrounded  with 
ducal  coronets,  and  gill  escutcheons.  A lofty  gothic  door  in  the  Jlal. 
Between  each  portrait  a panoply  of  the  armour  of  different  ages. 
Donna  Zantiie,  in  white,  standing  before  a table,  u,  C.  Don  Leo 
in  a splendid  dress,  and  seated  in  a chair  of  state. 

DON  LEO. 

The  rich  atonement  for  repining  years 
At  length  arrives.  Most  dear  and  gentle  cousin, 

Long  my  sole  comfort,  now  my  better  self, 

To-day  will  give  thee  rank  above  all  dames 
That  bear  De  Sylva’s  name. 

Where  are  thy  smiles  ? I fear 

Thou  hast  not  yet  forgiven  the  wrong  I did  thee. 

That  I should  bring  a blush  upon  that  cheek 
With  base  suspicion  ; thou  art  pale  and  sad  ! 

Much  it  hath  grieved  me,  more  perchance  than  thee; 

Yet,  certes,  they  were  there ; two  gallant  forms 
Of  men,  at  midnight,  in  thy  chamber,  Zanthe, 

Was  not  a sight  to  mend  an  old  man’s  rest 
Who  was  to  call  thee  wife. 

ZANTHE. 

It  is  forgotten ; 

Let  me  entreat  you  speak  of  it  no  more. 

DON  LEO. 

It  will  no  more  be  questioned,  — trust  me,  never. 

I must  have  charity  for  some  weak  thoughts 
My  sixty  years  have  brought  me.  Time,  I fear. 


40 


IIERNAJS:!. 


Hath  scored  them  with  unsparing  hand.  Yet  do  I love 
thee 

As  light  and  shallow  youth  can  never  love. 

As  yet  there  are  no  wrinkles  at  my  heart ; 

And  ever  gladdened  with  thy  grace  and  beauty 
It  will  forever  beat  with  young  delight. 


Alas ! 


ZANTHE. 


DON  LEO. 

Or  when  it  faintlier  throbs,  ’t  is  thy 
Fond  care  will  soothe  it  till  it  throb  no  more. 


ZANTHE. 

My  lord,  that  care  perhaps  may  not  be  mine. 


Not  thine ! 


DON  LEO. 
ZANTHE. 


The  young  oft  rush  into  the  tomb. 

Leaving  the  old  still  lingering  on  its  verge, 
To  close  it  o’er  them. 


DON  LEO. 

Fie  on  these  sad  thoughts ! 

Dost  thou  forget  thou  art  a blooming  bride  ? 
Do  maidens  talk  of  tombs,  while  holy  men 
Prepare  for  them  the  altar  ? We  detain  them. 
Wilt  not  attire  thee  ? 


ZANTHE. 

There  is  time  enough. 


Not  so. 


DON  LEO. 


ISADORE,  a page,  enters  at  C.  doors. 
What  says  our  Isadore  ? 


HERNANI. 


41 


ISADORE. 

A lowly  stranger,  as  I think  a pilgrina, 
Entreats  asylum  in  the  castla 

DON  LEO. 

Grant  it. 

He  comes  in  happy  time.  Whoe’er  he  be, 
For  rest  or  safety,  weary  or  in  peril. 

Seek  he  our  shelter,  it  shall  be  to  him 
Refuge  assured.  So  tell  him,  and  so  pledge 
Our  hospitality.  Stay  ! what  news 
Of  our  marauding  rebels  ? 


ISADORE. 


They  are  routed. 

Some  taken,  many  killed.  Their  bold  Hernani, 
The  lion  of  the  hills,  beset  on  all  sides. 

Has  no  escape. 

ZANTHE  (r.  aside). 


I sink. 


DON  LEO. 

How  know  you  this  ? 

ISADORE. 


From  some  employed  to  hunt  them  down.  The  King 
Himself  pursues  their  chief.  A thousand  crowns 
Are  offered  for  his  head ; but ’t  is  the  rumour 
He  is  among  the  slain. 


ZANTHE  {aside). 

And  I still  live  ! 

Hernani ! 

DON  LEO. 

So,  that  were  the  better  chance. 

Haply  for  him,  and,  doubtless,  for  his  hunters. 

{To  Zanthe)  Still  tarrying  ? Josepha  waits.  I pr’ythee 
let  her 

Adorn  thee  fitly. 


42 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE  {aside). 

Fitly,  were  in  weeds, — 

Weeds  for  my  widowed  heart.  {^Exit  Zanthe  r. 

ISADORE. 

Would  my  lord  ask  — 

DON  LEO. 

No  more;  admit  the  stranger,  crave  his  pardon 
For  thy  delay.  And,  Isadore,  that  done, 

Convey  the  casket  destined  for  thy  mistress. 

[Exit  Isadore,  c. 

I ’ll  have  her  decked  like  a Madonna ; thus. 

With  that  dark  eye  so  ample,  soft,  and  saintly. 

Half  veiled  beneath  its  deep  and  downcast  lid. 

Our  pilgrim  may  kneel  down  and  do  her  homage. 

His  coming  ’bodes  us  good ; it  pleases  me. 

The  stranger  ever  at  my  gate  is  welcome,  — 

To-day  most  warmly. 

[Hernani  appears  at  the  great  entrance,  c.,  disguised  as  a 
pilgrim. 


HERNANI. 

To  my  noble  lord 
All  peace  and  happiness. 


DON  LEO. 

As  much  to  you. 

Free  cheer,  true  welcome,  and,  if  such  your  need, 
Inviolate  asylum  here  are  yours. 

You  are  — 


A pilgrim. 

From  Armillas  ? 


HERNANI. 
DON  LEO. 


HERNANI. 

No. 

That  way  was  strife  and  bloodshed,  and  I shunn’d  it. 


IIERNANI. 


43 


DON  LEO. 

Whither  speed  you  then  ? 


To  Saragossa. 


HERNANI. 


DON  LEO. 

With  holy  vows  to  tliy  protecting  saint, 
No  doubt;  or  to  our  Lady  del  Pilar. 


HEENANI. 

With  such  intent,  and  to  our  Lady’s  shrine. 


DON  LEO. 

If  any  wrong  oppress  thee,  done  or  suffered. 

Within  these  walls  forget  it,  while  they  grin 
With  jubilee,  and  from  all  outward  harm 
Protect  you  as  they  shall.  I may  anon 
Enquire  your  name  and  fortunes,  which  concern  me 
Only  to  serve  you  as  I may.  You  are 
My  guest,  what  else  I care  not. 

My  bride  ! [Crosses  R.  Hernani  is  startled. 

[Donna  Zanthe  enters  in  her  bridal  attire,  Attendants, 
etc.  Two  Females  hearing  a velvet  cushion,  on  which 
is  placed  a casket  of  polished  steel,  richly  carved, 
which  they  place  on  a table.  It  contains  the  coro- 
net of  a duchess,  necklace,  bracelets,  and  a set  of 
diamonds. 

DON  LEO. 

Behold  our  lady  of  the  castle. 

Whate’er  of  our  devotions  earth  may  claim. 

Here,  pilgrim,  may  be  well  bestowed. 

Fair  saint  1 f Taking  her  hand. 


44 


IIERNANI. 


Approach.  What ’s  here  ? A naked  hand  ? 

Where  are  thy  rings  — thy  gems  — thy  coronet  ? 

HERNANI  {in  desperation  throws  off  his  disguise'). 
Who ’s  for  a thousand  crowns  ? Here  stands  Hernani. 


Alive ! 


ZANTHE  {aside). 


HERNANI. 

Come  all,  behold  the  man  so  famed, 

The  head  so  prized  ! 

Duke,  you  would  know  my  name,  — it  is  Hernani. 
Is ’t  not  a brave  one  ? Introduce  your  guest 
At  court ; he  ’ll  serve  you  better  there  than  all 
Your  scars  — 


He ’s  lost ! 
Kegard  him  not. 

Dear  Hernani ! 


ZANTHE. 

He  raves. 

\_Crosses  to  L.,  and  aside  to  him. 


HERNANI. 

Ah! 

Some  one  of  this  good  company  recalls 
And  names  me.  Yes,  I am  Hernani.  Since 
There’s  marriage  here,  I am  for  wedding,  too. 
My  bride  elect,  the  Moor’s  dark  angel.  Death  ! 
She ’s  cold  but  constant,  Duke. 


DON  LEO  {in  a firm  tone). 

I understand  you  not,  but  yet  believe 
There  is  no  cause  for  desperation  here. 

The  man  who  aims  at  thy  head  risks  his  own. 

My  guest,  and  in  the  name  of  Heaven  received 
Beneath  my  roof,  Hernani,  though  you  be. 

These  walls  are  compromised  unharmed  to  hold  you ; 


A Kfjchclcna  inv 


Leon  Boisson  sc. 


HEENANI. 


45 


And  till  my  head  surmount  a breathless  trunk, 

For  every  hair  of  thine  1 ’ll  warrant  it.  [To  Zanthe. 
My  best  beloved,  retire  awhile.  [To  Suited  All  follow  me. 
To  arm  my  vassals  and  secure  my  gates. 

{^Exit  Duke  a7id  Attendants,  c.  Donna  Zanthe  seeyiis 
to  follow^  her  waiting-women,  who  go  off,  R.,  then  stojw 
and  turns.  Hernani  gazes  on  her  steadfastly,  hut 
with  strong  emotion. 

IIERNANI. 

I give  you  joy,  fair  Duchess.  On  my  life 
Thou  ’rt  furnished  splendidly.  A casket  too. 

[Taking  it  from  the  table. 
Gems  in  reserve,  most  brilliant  and  complete  ; 

Diamonds  and  pearls  ! Kings,  chains,  and  coronet ! 

No  bauble  left  to  sigh  for.  Precious  store. 

And  well  bestowed  on  love  so  pure,  so  lofty.  [Crosses  R. 

ZANTHE  (taking  a dagger  from  the  easket). 

You  have  not  searched  it  through. 


HERNANI  (staiding,  then  throwing  himself  at  her  feet). 


Forgive  me ! 


ZANTHE. 


This 

I snatched  from  Carlos,  when  he  would  have  had  me 
Partake  his  throne,  which  I refused  for  one 
Who  thus  requites  me  ! 


HERNANI. 

Strike  it  to  his  heart ! 

From  thy  hand  merited,  from  thy  hand  welcome. 

ZANTHE. 

That  hand  can  only  raise  thee  from  thy  penitence. 

The  worst  of  wrongs,  from  thee,  my  heart  can  pardon,  — 


46 


HERNANI. 


Much  more  the  wild  and  frantic  thoughts  that  drive  thee, 
For  my  sake,  to  despair. 


IIEKNANI. 

Oh ! ever  merciful, 

Devoted,  measureless  in  love  and  truth ! 

’T  is  time  this  untamed  savage  should  resign  thee 
To  that  benign  and  gentle  peace  he  found 
The  native  inmate  of  thy  bosom. 

ZANTHE. 

No.  For  thy  woes  it  bleeds. 

But  not  thy  cruelty.  I should  have  died  — 

HERNANI. 

For  me  ! 

ZANTHE. 

For  whom,  if  not  for  thee  ? {In  a flood  of  tears. 


HERNANI. 


Still  tears. 

And  I the  cause  ! and  none  will  punish  me,  — 
Not  e’en  my  much  abused  and  noble  host. 

I cannot  shun,  yet  wherefore  do  I haunt  thee  ? 
I know  not  how  to  love,  yet  love  to  madness. 
My  friends  are  dead,  or  in  their  dungeons.  I 
Am  left  to  be  indeed  a scourge  — a ruffian  ! 


ZANTHE  (with  ardent  ahandoment) . 

No,  thou  art  good  and  generous,  and  with  all 

My  heart  I love  thee.  [Falls  on  his  neck. 


HERNANI. 

Carlos,  strike  ! for  earth 
Can  yield  no  more. 

[They  are  linked  in  each  other's  arms,  absorbed  in  looks  of 
love  and  tenderness. 


IIEUNANI. 


47 


Enter  Don  Leo,  c.  ; he  stands  amazed  and  motionless. 
DON  LEO. 

And  this  is  then  the  world 

I live  in ! this  is  now  the  recompense 

Of  hospitality ! and  this  the  man 

Who,  in  the  name  of  Christian  brotherhood. 

Demands  our  shelter  ! Thou  besotted  host. 

Unbar  thy  gates,  and  let  thy  heart  he  opened 
To  give  the  stranger  welcome  in  his  need ; 

Arouse  thy  pride,  and  string  thy  sinews  up 
To  champion  him,  at  sixty  years ; 

Gird  on  thy  trustiest  weapon,  man  thy  towers 
To  fence  him  in  his  danger ; venture  all 
For  him,  and  thus  much  will  he  do  for  you ! 

Bandits  and  murderers  have  I seen,  who  died 
Scoffers,  impenitent  and  unconfessed. 

But  never  man  betraying  thus  his  host 

Who  had  not  trembled.  Flower  of  old  Castilians  ! 

[^Addressing  the  imrtraits. 

What  man  is  he  who  thus  profanes  your  presence  ? 
IIERNANI. 

One  who  devoutly  bends  in  veneration 

For  them  and  thee.  The  outrage  I have  done  you 

Defies  alike  or  patience  or  redress ; 

But  I have  blood,  a hot  ungoverned  tide, 

O’erswelling  bound  and  barrier  — let  it  gush ! 

Cleanse  thy  polluted  sanctuary,  and  be 
The  rest  forgotten ! 

EANTHE. 

Nay  ! Strike  rather  here  ! 

Hence  was  the  sin,  hence  flow  the  expiation. 

This  heart,  defiled  with  pity  for  the  brave, 

Be  the  peace-offering  to  thine  anger. 


48 


IIERNANI. 


DON  LEO. 

Neither. 

It  is  not  thus  the  sacrifice  is  made 
To  my  insulted  honour.  Leave  us. 

ZANTHE. 

Wherefore  ? 

That  look  I know;  it  ’bodes  some  fatal  purpose, — 
Death  or  a living  seiiulchre  ! Forbear, 

For  he  is  as  noble  as  thyself ; deserving 
Thy  love  as  mine. 


Thine  ? 

No,  no ! 

’T  is  enough. 


DON  LEO  {roused). 

ZANTHE. 

DON  LEO. 

[A  trumpet  sounds.  Leo  draws  his  sword. 


Enter  Isadore,  c. 
What  sound  is  that  ? 

ISADORE. 

IMy  lord,  the  King  in  person. 

Attended  by  a troop  of  archers,  claims 
Admittance  by  his  herald’s  trumpet. 


Claims ! 
The  King ! 


DON  LEO  {ealmly'). 
ZANTHE. 

’T  is  fatal ! 


ISADORE. 

Our  delay  offends  him ; but  your  command  — 


DON  LEO. 

Well,  for  the  King  we  ’ll  waive  it; 
Admit  him. 


IIEKNANI. 


49 


ZANTIIE. 

He  is  lost ! {Exit  Isadore,  c. 

[Don  Leo  goes  to  a large  picture,  L.,  of  himself,  which  is 
the  last  on  the  left,  and  presses  a spring,  when  the  pic- 
ture opens  like  a door,  and  discovers  a recess  in  the 
wall. 

HERNANI  {not  observing  him'). 

He  triumphs ! 

DON  LEO. 

No.  {Points  to  the  recess  L. 

HERNANI. 

Ah! 


Enter. 


DON  LEO. 


HERNANI. 

Gladly. 

Kescued  from  him,  dispose  me  as  you  will. 

{Enters  the  recess  L. ; it  closes  on  him. 


ZANTIIE  {exultingly). 
Does  he  relent  — protect  him  still ! 


Enter  Isadore,  c. 


ISADORE. 

His  Highness  the  King. 

{A  flourish  of  drums  and  trumpets.  Zanthe  throvjs  on 
her  veil.  The  folding  doors  open  and  the  King  enters 
in  warlike  attire,  followed  by  Arguebusiers,  Archers, 
Gentlemen-at-Arms,  etc. ; he  advances  deliberately,  c., 
a7id  fixes  on  Don  Leo,  r.,  a look  of  anger  and  distrust. 
The  Duke  meets  and  salutes  him  with  prof  ound  respect. 
The  King,  on  approaching,  raises  his  head  abruptly, 
and  as  in  rebuke. 

VOL.  XIII.  — 4 


50 


HEllNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

How  comes  it,  cousin,  that  to-day 

Your  bolts  and  bars  are  so  tenacious  ? Why 

This  watch  and  ward,  question,  and  hostile  parley  ? 

Your  falchion,  too,  still  glittering  in  your  grasp  ! 

I thought  it  rusty. 

[^Tlie  L>uke  goes  to  speuk ; the  King  stops  him  hy  an 
imperial  gesture. 

Put  it  up.  Are  we 

Encountered  like  a troop  of  turban’d  foes  ? 

Ain  I a Saib,  a Mahomet,  or  Carlos, 

That  your  portcullis  falls  at  my  approach  ? 

DON  LEO. 

My  liege  — 


DON  CARLOS  (J,o  his  Attendants'). 
Secure  the  keys.  Let  every  door 
Be  guarded  strongly.  Is  it  here  I find 
E.xpiring  treason  nourished  and  restored  ? 

Of  that  devouring  fire  that  long  has  blazed 
Even  in  our  faces,  yet  a spark  remains  ; 

Where  is  it  smouldering,  to  be  fann’d  and  foster’d  ? 
’T  is  here.  The  outlaw  chief  is  in  the  castle. 

DON  LEO. 

My  liege,  ’tis  true. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Surrender  him,  or  wear 
His  chains  thyself.  Choose. 

DON  LEO. 

My  election ’s  easy. 

To  take  me  fettered  or  to  leave  me  free. 

Is  the  sole  choice  I can  accord  your  Highness. 


HERNANI. 


51 


DON  CARLOS. 

Defer  your  pleasantry.  I trifle  not. 

Bring  forth  your  prisoner ; I must  have  him  ; think  on ’t. 

\_The  Duke  crosses  Ms  arms  and  pauses  in  brief  delibera- 
tion ; then  raises  his  head  and  leads  the  King  to  the 
most  ancient  of  the  portraits,  L.  u.  E.  Donna  Zanthe 
watching  him  with  great  agitation. 


DON  LEO. 

Sire,  by  your  gracious  leave,  behold  the  first. 

The  founder,  of  our  race,  Don  Silvias,  — 

The  father  of  its  glory.  Thrice  in  Koine, 

Still  great,  was  he  elected  consul,  and  recalled 
The  days  when  she  was  greatest.  Next  to  him 
Stands  Ruy  Gomez,  worthy  to  succeed  him,  — 

Grand  master  of  St.  James  and  Calatrava. 

Three  hundred  standards. 

In  thirty  battles  fought  and  won,  he  made 
His  trophies  and  memorial.  For  the  king 
He  conquered  Moril,  Suez,  Antiquera, 

And  died  in  poverty.  Salute  him,  sire. 

[He  himself  uneovers  omd  bends  in  salutation ; the  King 
exhibits  constant  impatience ; Don  Leo  passes  to  an- 
other. 

His  son,  Don  Gaspar,  follows, — the  reproachless; 

Amidst  corruption,  incorruptible ; 

Whose  hand  to  touch  had  sanctified  an  oath. 

Your  patience,  — for  I will  not  multiply 

An  echo  of  renown  still  equal,  still 

The  highest ! Here ’s  my  father,  — undegenerate  ! 

Friendship’s  proud  champion  ! Witli  six  hundred  spears 

His  friend  Don  Alvar  Giron  he  redeemed 

From  hostile  thousands. 


52 


IIERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 
I demand  my  prisoner. 


DON  LEO. 

Show  me,  sire,  but  one  of  these 

Had  soiled  his  honour  and  betrayed  his  guest. 


Hernani ! 


DON  CARLOS. 


DON  LEO. 

Here  is  another  yet.  His  son,  myself, 

{^Pointing  to  Ms  own  portrait. 
Has  dared  take  place  beside  him,  and  must  not 
Disgrace  him. 

DON  CARLOS. 

The  rebel’s  head  or  yours. 


DON  LEO. 

For  surety,  sire. 

Take  that  within  your  reach. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Beware  of  both.  [2’o  Ms  Suite] 

From  tojJiuost  tower  to  deepest  dungeon,  search 
The  castle  through. 


DON  LEO. 

My  castle,  like  its  lord, 

Is  firm  and  faithful,  and  will  keep  our  secret 

DON  CARLOS. 

This,  to  thy  King  ! 

DON  LEO. 

This,  and  a brief  addition.  [ With  firm  resolution!] 
From  base  to  battlement,  till  stone  from  stone 


HERNANI. 


53 


Be  sundered,  and  their  master  limb  from  limb, 
Master  be  will  be,  and  bis  guest  secure. 


DON  CARLOS. 


Is ’t  resolved  ? 

DON  LEO. 

It  is. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Arrest  him  ! 

\_Guards  disarm  him.  Zanthe  throws  up  her  veil 


ZANTHE  (r.) 

Hold  ! Carlos,  the  brave,  the  great ! 

You  are  a wicked  king  ; 

Nor  have  a true  and  noble  Spanish  heart. 

Like  him  you  seek,  or  him  you  would  oppress. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Judgment  so  harsh  ne’er  uttered  voice  so  gentle. 

{Approaches  her  and  lowers  his  tone. 
I am  what  you  have  made  me,^ — will  he  still. 

If  you  would  teach  me  mercy,  let  me  learn  it 
From  your  example,  not  your  precepts,  Donna. 

Still  to  be  cruel,  where  you  look  for  kindness. 

Flatters  the  saucy  satirist  alone, 

Who  calls  your  sex  unreasonable. 

ZANTHE. 

Sire, 

Kings  are  no  traffickers  in  grace  and  bounty. 

But  deal  it  xinconditioned,  or ’t  is  none. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Be  it  so , 

You  shall  prevail.  Kelease  him.  Brave  De  Sylva, 
My  long  esteem,  and  a soft  influence  here, 


54 


HERNANI. 


Still  shake  our  stern  resolve.  We  cannot  see  yon 
In  Spanish  hands  a captive  ; well  assured 
Your  loyalty  will  suffer  brief  suspense. 

Meantime,  we  ’ll  only  take,  by  way  of  hostage, 
Your  kinsmaid  here,  — your  Donna  Zanthe. 


Take  her. 
Only  take  — 

Me! 


DON  LEO. 

ZANTHE. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Fair  maid,  you  go  with  us. 


DON  LEO. 

No  more  ! Oh,  admirable  clemency  ! 

Most  gracious  monarch,  who  can  thus  respect 
A servant’s  head  to  wring  his  heart ! 


DON  CARLOS. 

A choice 

Remains  with  thee, — your  Donna  Zanthe, 
Or  your  vile  refugee. 

DON  LEO. 

He  must  remain. 


ZANTHE  (Jlies  to  Don  Leo). 


Oh,  save  me ! 


DON  CARLOS. 
Trust  me ; you  have  nought  to  fear. 


zanthe  {aside — recovering  her  thoughts). 
It  may  be  not ; and  those  I go  to  shield 
May  die  ! It  is  enough.  I follow  you. 


HEENANI. 


55 


DON  CARLOS. 

You  ’re  wise,  and  may  confide  in  me. 

ZANTHE  (emphatically'). 

I will 

\_Goes  to  the  casket,  takes  the  dagger  and  conceals  it  in  her 
hosom. 

DON  CARLOS  (aside). 

’T  was  inspiration ! \To  her.']  Come,  my  gentle  hostage, 
What  seek  you  there  ? 

ZANTHE. 

Sire,  ’t  is  a valued  token 
I would  not  part  from. 


DON  CARLOS. 

You  make  me  curious  ; 

May  I not  see  a toy  so  prized  ? 

ZANTHE. 

Ere  long 

You  may.  It  is  not  now  a time.  \_To  Don  Leo.]  Farewell. 
[She  gives  her  hand  to  Don  Carlos.  They  are  about  to  go 
when  Don  Leo,  who  had  remained  absorbed,  bursts  into 
a paroxysm  of  despair. 

DON  LEO. 

My  Zanthe ! Heaven  and  earth ! Down  with  my  walls  ! 
Shatter  them  down,  and  crush  me ! What  remains 
When  she  is  gone  ? Leave  her,  and  take  all  else. 

DON  CARLOS. 

My  prisoner  then. 

DON  LEO  (dropping  his  head,  and  after  great  agitation 
raising  his  clasped  hands  towards  the  portraits). 

You  are  relentless.  [To  the  King. 


56 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Fixed ! 

[Don  Leo  advances  slowly  towards  Ms  portrait.  Zanthe 
watches  Mm  with  'breathless  anxiety. 

ZANTHE. 

I am  chilled ! 

DON  LEO  {pearly  reaching  the  spot,  and  again  looking  up). 
Lo ! every  eye 

Flashes  indignant  lightning  while  I pause. 

Base  falterer  I Suspense  should  damn  thee  — [Struggles.] 
No, 

The  pang  is  past ! Take  her,  and  leave  me  still 
My  proud  inheritance. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Even  make  the  most  of  it. 

Heaven  speed  you,  cousin. 

[Flourish  of  drums  and  trumpets.  Exeunt  King,  Zanthe, 
and  Attendants,  c. 

DON  LEO. 

[Watches  them  in  wild  emotion  for  a moment,  grappling 
for  his  dagger,  then  returns,  gasping,  and  remains 
awhile  motionless;  then  looking  round,  and  finding 
himself  alone,  withdraws  two  swords  from  a panoply, 
measures  and  plaees  them  on  a table  ; then  proceeds  to 
the  spring  and  opens  the  recess. 

Come  forth  ! 

Hernani  enters  from  panel,  L. 

Thou  ’rt  safe.  My  honour  stands  to  thee 

Clear  and  acquitted.  What  is  due  from  thee. 

Thou  know’st.  Select  [Pointing  to  the  swords.]  and  let  us 
hence. 


HEKNANI. 


57 


HEKNANI. 

Contend  with  thee  in  arms  ! So  foul  a deed 
Felon  ne’er  died  for. 

DON  LEO. 

Thou  know’st  my  wrongs,  and  what  alone  can  right  them. 
What ! closely  linked  with  thee,  caressing  ! loving  ! 

The  thought  for  ever  stinging  me  ! ’T  were  madness  ! 

’T  is  time,  — ’t  is  lit  — ’t  is  the  sole  course  of  honour 
That  one  of  us  should  die.  Such  lots  are  drawn 
By  brave  men  with  their  swords,  as  ours  must  be ; 

Or  thy  refusal  be  thy  forfeiture,  — 

For  so,  by  Heaven,  I ’ll  hold  it ! 


Hold  it  so. 


HEKNANI. 


Thou  ’rt  warned. 


DON  LEO. 


HEKNANI. 

I am.  The  blood  of  my  brave  friends 
Reproaches  me  the  life  you  saved.  To  them 
And  thee  let  it  atone.  The  prize  is  thine ; 

Be  mine  the  forfeit. 

DON  LEO. 

Make  thy  last  prayer. 

HEKNANI. 

To  thee  I make  it ; To  behold  once  more. 

And  breathe  a blessing  on  thy  Donna  Zanthe. 


Behold  her ! 


DON  LEO. 


HEKNANI. 

Nay,  let  me  but  hear  her  voice 
Once,  and  no  more  ! 


58 


HERNANI. 


DON  LEO. 

Was  thy  concealment  then 
So  closed  against  the  passing  scene  ? 

IIERNANI. 

For  thy  sake 

I sought  its  inmost  depths. 

DON  LEO. 

And  nothing  heard  ? 

HERNANI. 

Nothing.  Yet,  what  imports  it  to  my  boon  ? 

DON  LEO. 

The  King  demanded  thee  or  Donna  Zanthe. 

HERNANI. 

And  bore  her  hence  ? 

DON  LEO. 

For  thee  my  roof  was  sacred. 

HERNANI. 

Madman  ! she ’s  lost ; he  loves  her ! 


Loves  her ! 


DON  LEO. 


HERNANI. 

Aye,  as  a lewd  and  reckless  tyrant  loves,  — 
To  laugh  at  thee  and  me  — dishonour  her. 


DON  LEO. 

Curse  on  his  treachery  ! Confiding  fool ! 

Was  this  his  midnight  purpose  ! Ho  ! within  ! 

{Attendants  appear  at  C 
Let  all  my  followers,  mounted  at  the  best. 

In  arms  attend  me  quick.  {Exeunt  Attendants,  C 


KBf  t. 
■r  r- 

p 

li'  - 


AJtf'adtsi  isT  L Bnssen  sc 


HERNANI. 


59 


HERNANI. 

And  for  my  boon, 

Give  but  a band  of  them  to  my  command. 

On  one  great  hazard  more  to  set  my  hate 
Against  this  ravisher,  thy  Uonna  Zanthe 
To  rescue  or  revenge ; hy  the  big  throb 
That  shakes  thy  own  proud  heart,  oh  grant  but  this ! 

And  should  my  life  escape  the  desperate  issue. 

Still,  still ’t  is  thine. 

DON  LEO. 

Trust  thee  ! Thou  vindicate  her ! 

HERNANI. 

Thou  hast  my  bond. 

DON  LEO. 

Unpledged  — unwitnessed. 

HERNANI. 

No; 

To  these  thy  ancestors  I make  appeal,  — 

\^Then  pointing  upwards. 
To  mine,  a race  as  noble  as  thine  own. 

And  for  a pledge  take  this,  and  hear  my  words. 

[Gives  his  horn. 

Whate’er  befalls  me,  at  whatever  time 

Or  place  thou  would’st  demand  my  life,  ’t  is  thine. 

And  claim  it.  Only  sound  this  horn,  — 

I sha’n’t  mistake  it,  — and  thy  will  be  done. 

DON  LEO. 

Thy  hand ! One  law  then  rules  us ; I will  trust  thee. 

[Exeunt,  c. 


ACT  IV. 


Scene.  — The  monumental  caverns  of  Aix-la-Chapelle.  Spacious 
vaults  of  Lombard  architecture,  low  and  massy  pillars,  with  orna- 
mental capitals.  On  the  right  the  tomb  of  Charlemagne,  with  a 
small  low  door  of  brass,  the  inscription  “ Karolo  Alagno  ” rendered 
conspicuous  by  the  light  of  a lamp,  which  is  suspended  singly  from 
the  centre  of  the  vaults.  The  eye  is  lost  in  the  undefined  depths  of 
the  Arcades. 

Enter  Carlos  and  Kicardo,  the  latter  leading  the  way  with 
a lantern,  L.  U.  E. 

DON  RICARDO. 

We  have  now,  my  liege,  wound  through  the  murky 
labyrinth.  Here,  no  doubt,  the  traitors  will  assemble; 
and  here  is  your  chosen  concealment. 

DON  CARLOS. 

We  ’ll  use  it  anon.  Thanks  to  our  diligence  and  the 
speed  of  our  horses,  we  are  far  in  advance  of  their  ap- 
pointed hour.  And  this,  then,  is  to  be  the  council  hall 
of  conspiracy  ? They  ’ll  sharpen  their  daggers  on  the 
tomb  of  Charlemagne,  as  if  Carlos  of  Castile  were  un- 
worthy to  succeed  him.  Your  list  of  these  formidable 
conspirators. 

DON  RICARDO. 

’T  is  here,  my  liege,  with  the  exception  of  two  who 
have  lately  reinforced  them,  and  who  appear  to  be  father 
and  son  ; but  their  names  I know  not. 

DON  CARLOS. 

We  may  soon  engrave  them  on  their  monument  for 
public  information.  But  in  thus  disposing  of  our  pigmy 


IIERNANI. 


61 


foes,  what  is  our  dependence  on  our  friends  ? The  em- 
pire, Count,  the  empire ! The  crisis  of  its  fate  is  near 
at  hand. 

DON  RICARDO. 

The  council,  sire,  is  at  this  moment  deliberating.  You 
will  succeed. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Three  voices,  as  I think,  would  secure  me.  Three  suf- 
frages ! Could  I but  purchase  them  for  as  many  cities, 
— Ghent,  Toledo,  Salamanca.  In  Spain  or  Flanders  let 
them  make  their  choice,  and  they  shall  have  the  richest 
and  the  proudest. 

DON  RICARDO. 

'T  were  a tempting  bribe,  sire. 

DON  CARLOS. 

’Tis  nothing.  Count,  — a trifle.  Y^a'p’ping  him  famil- 
iarly^ Cities,  my  sagacious  friend,  may  be  recovered  ; the 
empire  once  lost  becomes  a forlorn  hope.  [Ricardo  'puts 
on  his  hati\  Your  hat,  sir ! 

DON  RICARDO. 

My  liege,  you  have  touched  and  familiarly  accosted 
me.  I am  a grandee  of  Spain,  ipso  facto. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Ha,  ha,  ha ! You  are  learned  in  the  law.  Count,  and 
prompt  at  illustration.  We  venture  not  to  litigate  your 
claim,  and  therefore,  grandee,  we  must  admit  you.  Our 
Donna  Zanthe,  how  has  she  sustained  her  journey  ? 

DON  RICARDO. 

Marvellously  well,  sire,  since  the  worthy  duchess  you 
gave  her  in  charge  to,  and  her  own  experience,  have 
assured  her  of  your  Highness’s  chivalrous  forbearance. 


62 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Therein  she  flatters  not  my  love,  my  lord. 

But  she  is  woman  still,  and  should  I triumph  — 

Have  you  considered  our  impatience.  Count  ? 

How  shall  we  quickliest  know  the  council’s  choice  ? 

DON  RICARDO. 

From  the  cannon’s  mouth,  my  liege.  The  discharge  of 
one  only  will  announce  the  election  of  the  Duke  of 
Saxony;  two  will  report  for  Francis;  and  three  will 
thunder  for  your  Highness. 

DON  CARLOS. 

’T  is  well  devised.  They  ’ll  boldly  speak  the  worst,  un- 
minced with  flattery.  And  now  to  prepare  for  our  con- 
spirators, — these  self-elected  guardians  of  the  state  and 
empire  ! Forget  not  my  instructions. 

DON  RICARDO. 

I do  not,  my  liege. 

DON  CARLOS. 

The  key  of  the  monument. 

DON  RICARDO. 

’T  is  here  ! [Gives  it. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Now  leave  us,  and  obey  our  orders  strictly. 

[Exit  Eicardo,  r. 

DON  CARLOS  (remains  for  a time  in  profound  abstraction, 
then  turns  toward  the  tomb  of  Charlemagne). 
Charlemagne  ! mighty  spirit ! now  enthroned 
Above  this  coil  and  buzz  of  mortal  passions. 

Oh,  let  me  commune  with  thee ! Say,  is  all 
Thy  power,  the  wisdom  and  the  mastery 


HERNANI. 


63 


Of  soul,  that  with  thy  mortal  nature  came 
On  earth,  gone  with  it,  — perished,  marbled  up 
With  that  poor  dust,  which  balanced  with  the  vilest. 

Nor  weighs,  nor  values  more  ? Let  them  be  dumb 
Who  deem  so,  while  a heart  is  swelling  here. 

That  unrebuked,  even  in  this  awful  presence. 

Dares  hope  to  track  thee  in  thy  giant  path, 

And  do  thy  mighty  deeds.  Oh,  empire  ! empire  1 
Winning  thee  fairly  shall  I not  desire  thee  ? 

And  having  won  thee,  when  I spot  thy  purple 
With  sloth  or  slavish  passion,  to  my  bosom 
Take  other  counsellors  than  truth  and  justice, 

Then  strip  it  from  me.  Heaven,  and  degrade 
The  mightiest  monarch  to  the  meanest  man. 

And  thou,  immortal  spirit ! by  my  strength  ; 

Sustain  me ; poise  me  on  my  height,  and  yield  me 
Awhile  thy  sanctuary.  Dare  I enter  ? 

Should  I in  shadowy  majesty  behold  him. 

How  would  he  palsy  my  presumption  ? Hark  ! 

What  step,  save  mine,  profanes  thy  sacred  rest  ? 

[Smilmg.']  I had  forgot.  I wait  for  my  assassins. 

They  come. 

[He  enters  the  tomh  and  closes  it.  Several  Men  enter  vnth 
cautious  step,  enveloped  in  their  mantles,  finally  meet 
each  other,  and  speak  in  a low  voice. 


SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 


Who  goes  there  ? 


FIRST  CONSPIRATOR  {carrying  a lighted  torch). 
Ad  Augusta. 

SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

Per  Augusta. 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

The  saints  protect  us ! 


64 


IIERNANI. 


SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

The  dead  befriend  us  ! 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

Heaven  preserve  us  ! [27ic  sound  of  other  steps. 

SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

Who  goes  there  ? 

DE  HARO  (in  the  distance,  c.). 


Ad  Augusta. 

SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

Per  Augusta. 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

Saw  you  the  Duke  of  Gotha  ? 

DE  HARO. 

Not  an  hour  ago.  He  will  not  fail  us. 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

Methinks  I hear  his  step. 

[The  Duke  of  Gotha  and  other  Conspirators  advance 
from  the  obscurity  in  the  centre. 

DE  HARO. 

Who  goes  there  ? 


Ad  Augusta. 

GOTHA. 

DE  HARO. 

Per  Augusta. 

We  are  all  met. 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

[The  Conspirators  form  an  open  semicircle ; the  first 
Conspirator  takes  the  centre. 


HERNANI, 


65 


FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

Now,  Gotha,  your  report.  What  is  to  be  the  decision  of 
the  Great  Council  ? 

GOTHA. 

We  must  prepare  for  the  worst ; ’t  is  scarcely  doubted 
the  Duke  of  Saxony’s  humility  will  turn  their  choice  on 
Carlos. 

SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

We  must  be  speedy  then.  ’T  is  said  his  eagerness  to 
snatch  at  the  imperial  crown  has  brought  him  hither. 
Let  him  once  wear  it  and  he  is  safe ; his  august  person 
becomes  sacred ; who  dares  profane  it  is  damned  past 
hope. 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

’T  is  certain.  We  must  secure  the  safety  of  our  souls, 
and  kill  him  without  loss  of  time. 

SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

Down  with  him ! 

ALL. 

Agreed ! 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

Let  him  die  ! Who  shall  strike  the  blow  ? One  arm 
will  despatch  him  as  well  as  fifty.  The  reserve  will 
make  all  sure. 

SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

Decide  it  by  lot. 

ALL. 

Aye,  aye,  by  lot,  by  lot ! 

FIRST  CONSPIRATOR. 

About  it  then  — your  names. 

\^The  Conspirators  write  their  names  on  tablets,  then  tear 
the  leaves,  fold  them,  and  throw  them  into  an  urn  form- 
ing an  ornament  to  one  of  the  tombs. 

VOL.  XIII.  — 5 


HERNANI. 


6fi 


Now  listen  every  man.  To  whomsoever 
Tlie  glorious  hazard  fall,  let  him  resolve 
To  strike  like  an  old  Roman,  and  to  die 
Defying  block,  wheel,  and  brand. 


ALL. 


We  do.  Draw  ! draw  ! 

[^First  Conspirator  draws  and  opens  the  lot. 

The  name  ? 


Hernani ! 


FIRST  CONSPIRATOR  {reads). 
HERNANI  {starting  forward,  L.  C.). 


•T  is  mine  ! A smile  of  fortune  comes  at  last. 
Friends,  she  has  done  her  best  for  you,  be  sure. 


DON  LEO  {joining  him,  L.  C.). 

I doubt  it.  You  are  young,  light-tongued,  light-witted ; 
Your  arm  may  be  unsteady  as  your  head. 

Transfer  your  right.  I T1  buy  it  at  your  price, 

Tho’  ’t  were  your  pledge  here  \his  horn)  and  your  mort- 
gaged life. 

O O 

HERNANI. 

Your  bidding  must  be  better,  Duke.  My  price 
I need  not  name,  — Zanthe ; or  Death  is  welcome. 

Mg  life  is  yours.  The  King’s  belongs  to  me. 


DON  LEO. 

’T  is  true.  Keep  then  the  rights  you  have,  as  I 
Will  mine. 

SECOND  CONSPIRATOR. 

Aye,  let  him  strike ; we  ’ll  follow  close. 


HERNANI. 

You  may 

For  I will  lead  where  following  shall  not  shame  you. 


HERNANI. 


67 


This  Carlos, 

Who  looks  to  be  fifth  emperor  of  that  name, 

All  despot  as  he  is,  claims  better  of  us 
Than  a base  war  of  darkness  and  stilletoes. 

\Brav)s  his  sword. 

This  be  our  weapon,  then. 

Show  him  who  strikes,  and  openly  be  hailed 
Deliverers,  or  die  like  martyrs. 

DON  LEO  {with  impatient  energy). 

No  more. 

He  dies  — no  matter  how  to-morrow.  Swear  it. 

ALL. 

We  swear ! . ' 

[A  report  of  cannon  is  heard ; they  pause  in  silent  suspense. 
The  door  of  tltc  tomb  opens,  and  Don  Carlos  appears, 
pale  and  anxious ; a second  and  third  report  folloiv 
successively ; advances  to  c.  and  stayids  motionless. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Signors,  aloof ! The  Emperor  hears  you.  What 
The  angry  swarm  plunged  into  night  and  silence. 

And  all  this  muffled  thunder  but  a dream ! 

Strike  ! He  is  here  ! Carlos, 

Now  the  fifth  emperor  of  that  name  ! You  dare  not ! 

But  now  your  torches  glared  defiance.  Has 
A breath  extinguished  them  ? I must  supply 
Their  places,  then. 

\_Strikes  the  brazen  door  with  the  key,  and  the  vault  is  in- 
stantly filled  with  Soldiers  bearing  torches,  and  parti- 
zans  ; the  Dukes  Alcala  and  Parma  at  their  head. 

HERNANI. 

Defend  yourselves ! 

[Having  made  an  effort,  he  is  overwhelmed  vnth  the  rest, 
who  offer  no  resistance,  and  they  are  disarmed. 


68 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Vile  company,  good  signor.  You  are  lighted 
Now  to  our  mind.  Is ’t  not  a goodly  blaze  ? 

And  shows  one  face  I ’m  proud  to  look  upon. 

HERNANI. 

And  in  this  crowd  he  is  but  Carlos,  then, 

Wliom  juggled  fancy  swelled  to  Charlemagne. 

DON  RICARDO  {eagerly  saluting  the  Emperor). 
Sire  ! let  me  welcome  you 
To  empire. 

DON  CARLOS. 

You  have  been  trusty,  and  my  Lord 
Grandee,  be  now  my  Chamberlain  ! 

DON  RICARDO. 

Without 

Wait  two  Electors  of  the  Golden  Chamber 
With  their  congratulations. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Let  them  enter ! 

[//i  an  under  tone.\  And  Donna  Zauthe ! 

[PacARDO  ushers  in  the  King  of  Bohemia  and  the  Duke 
of  Bavaria  crowned  and  in  costumes  of  state,  followed 
hg  German  Barons  carrying  the  banner  of  the  Emperor, 
— a spread  eagle,  with  the  escutcheon  of  Spain  in  the 
centre.  They  salute  the  Emperor,  who  salutes  them  in 
return,  c. 

DUKE. 

King  of  the  Eomans  ! sacred  majesty  ! 

We  speak  the  general  voice  when  we  proclaim  you 

Worthily  raised  to  that  imperial  throne 

The  proudest  monarchs  vainly  have  aspired  to  ! 


HERNANI. 


69 


Frederic  of  Saxony,  elected  first, 

His  conscience  yielding  to  your  sounder  claim. 
In  honesty  of  heart  for  you  renounced  it. 

Your  coronation  only  waits  your  presence. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Crowned  in  default  of  Frederic  the  Wise, 

We  must  assert  his  wisdom  in  the  transfer. 

[Donna  Zanthe  appears  f rom  R.  u.  E. 
And  Donna  Zanthe  comes  the  first  to  prove  us. 


DON  RICARDO  {conducting  Zanthe). 
The  Emperor. 

ZANTHE  (R.  C.). 

Emperor ! 

HERNANI  (l.  C.). 

Donna  Zanthe ! 

DON  LEO  (L.). 

Ah! 

ZANTHE. 

Hernani ! 

DON  LEO. 

Me  she  marks  not ! 

ZANTHE. 

And  a prisoner ! 


HERNANI. 

There  is  no  more  to  fear  on  my  account  I 
The  worst  is  on  my  head. 


ZANTHE. 

May  I 

Implore  the  Emperor’s  gracious  leave  to  speak, 
Doing  him  justice,  hoping  for  his  mercy  ! 

DON  CARLOS. 


Here  you  are  mistress. 


70 


HERNANI 


ZANTHE. 

If  I have  been  tranquil  [Crosses  to  Hernani.], 

’T  is  that  my  worst  of  fears  were  stolen  from  me. 
Committed  to  a noble  lady’s  charge, 

Ne’er  sought  in  my  unwitnessed  loneliness, 

With  honour  and  with  due  regard  invested. 

Had  it  been  otherwise,  I had  a trinket. 

You  will  remember,  as  a charm  of  safety. 

Happy  I have  not  been.  The  Emperor  knows 
His  clemency  alone  can  make  me  so. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Lady,  you  go  too  far.  Has  he  not  sapped 
The  firmest  pillar  of  my  throne,  — the  Duke 
De  Sylva,  prisoner  by  his  side  ? 

ZANTHE. 

Don  Leo ! 

DON  CARLOS. 

A traitor ! 

DON  LEO. 

Yes,  as  Julian  was  a traitor 
To  King  Rodrigo. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Alcala,  let  those 

Of  rank  be  parted  from  the  rest,  to  die 
As  should  become  them. 

[The  Guards  divide  the  prisoners,  etc.,  leaving  Hernani 
and  three  on  L.,  talcing  the  others  to  R. 

HERNANI. 

Slaves  ! am  I then  left 

To  die  with  dogs  ? I claim  my  place  with  them. 

And  at  their  head.  You,  King,  that  will  have  me 
Exalted  to  be  worth  your  sword  or  hatchet. 

Know,  the  same  power  that  made  thee  what  thou  art. 


IIERNANI. 


71 


Gave  me  a station  in  the  sight  of  honour 
No  jot  beneath  your  level.  Let  your  headsman 
Eecord  me  in  his  list  of  noble  martyrs, 

Duke  of  Segovia  and  Cardona, 

Count  Albatira,  Marquis  of  Monroy, 

Viscount  de  Gor,  and  lord  of  lands  unnumbered. 

Yes,  I am  John  of  Arragon,  the  exiled 
Son  of  a sire  by  thine  unjustly  sentenced 
To  die  upon  the  scaffold,  — the  sole  heritage 
Eeserved  for  me  and  proudly  shared  with  him. 

For  I will  mount  it  nothing  derogate. 

Before  the  king,  the  head  of  a grandee 
May  bear  its  bonnet  to  the  block. 

[He  puts  on  his  hat  ; the  rest  follov:  his  example. 
And  now,  De  Sylva,  Lara,  and  the  rest. 

Give  place  to  John  of  Arragon ! [Going  over  to  them,  E.] 
Dukes  or  counts, 

I stand  before  you ! Marshals,  I demand 
A well  graced  pageant,  and  a spacious  scaffold ! 

DON  CAKLOS. 

This  history  we  had  almost  forgotten ; 

Nor  e’en  had  guessed  Hernani  had  recalled  it. 

HERNANI. 

A festering  wound  keeps  memory  awake ! 

DON  CARLOS. 

Then  part  of  my  inheritance,  I find, 

Is  an  unreckoned  fund  of  treasured  vengeance 
For  heads  King  Philip,  it  appears,  chopped  off 
Without  consulting  me. 


ZANTHE  (kneeling^. 

Oh,  Emperor, 

Of  heart  imperial!  most  wise  and  just! 


72 


HERNANI. 


Be  also  merciful.  If  he  hath  wronged  you 
’T  was  rashly,  not  ignobly,  even  as  I have. 

And  as  you  pardon  me,  so  pardon  him. 

If  on  no  better  plea  than  that  I love  him ; 

Tliat  he  is  mine  as  yours  the  throne  of  empire, 
And  to  my  heart  more  dear ! that  we  must  live 
Or  die  together.  Graciously  reply. 

DON  CARLOS  (a  moment  pausing). 
Fair  Donna,  yoit  must 
Live  till  this  poor  world 
Supply  some  image  of  thine  excellence ; 

Live  unobscured,  a blessing  and  example. 

Rise,  Duchess  of  Segovia  and  Cardona, 
Countess  of  Abatira,  Viscountess 
De  Gor  — • Your  other  titles,  rebel  ? 


HERNANI. 

Is  it 

The  King  I hear  ? 

DON  CARLOS. 

No.  ’T  is  the  Emperor.  [To  Zanthe.] 

You  hold  them  in  your  lord  and  husband’s  right, 

Don  John  of  Arragon.  Y’’our  hand  repays  them. 

[^Joins  their  hands. 


Oh,  heavens ! 


ZANTHE. 


HERNANI. 

My  liege  — go  to  Icneel ; the  King  stops  them. 


DON  CARLOS. 

No  more  ! Our  time  is  brief.  [To  Don  Leo.] 
How  now,  old  friend,  you  do  not  envy  him 
Nobility,  — his  own  inheritance  ? 


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HERNANI. 


73 


DON  LEO. 

No,  sire  [aside]  it  is  not  his  nohility. 

HERNANI. 

Oh,  what  a precious  balm  streams  on  the  wound 
That  cankered  at  my  heart ! ’T  is  healed  for  ever. 

ZANTHE. 

My  lord,  my  life,  we  suddenly  inhabit 
Another  world. 

DON  CARLOS  (Jo  Mmself,  his  hand  on  his  heart'). 
Heart ! heart ! be  satisfied. 

The  head  thy  pantings  have  so  long  bewildered 
Claims  now  to  master  thee,  and  bid  thee  rest. 

Love  ! Love  of  aught  save  the  confiding  millions 
Heaven  to  our  charge  consigns,  awhile  forget  we ; 

Spain,  Flanders,  Germany,  our  subject-states, 

Be  now  our  mistresses,  and,  Donna  Zanthe, 

Farewell.  Don  John,  you  would  have  knelt; 

Kneel  now. 

[Hernani,  now  John  of  Avragon ; he  kneels.  Carlos 
places  round  his  neck  the  collar  of  the  Golden  Fleece. 
Accept  a bauble  some  will  envy  thee. 

And  rise  our  knight.  Albe  those  circling  arms 
Still  far  more  honour  thee  than  our  adornment,  — 

Those  arms,  the  snow-white  badge  of  innocent  love. 

Pure  symbol  of  domestic  bliss,  which  when 
A king  enjoys,  he  dying  may  proclaim 
All  else  a shadow. 

HERNANI. 

And  am  I thus  happy. 

Standing  the  guiltiest  among  the  guilty  ? 

They  have  no  Donna  Zanthes. 


74 


HERNANI. 


DON  CARLOS. 

Nor  shall  need  them. 

My  heart,  my  eyes,  are  full  of  aught  but  vengeance. 

Your  names  I know  not,  but  all  here  are  pardoned. 

DON  LEO. 

I pardon  not  so  freely. 

[Sullenly  disappears  in  the  crowd. 

DON  CARLOS  (to  RICARDO). 

Prepare  that  we  depart. 

[Eicardo  xoithdraws  the  crowd,  who  pass  in  titter  silence 
through  the  vaults  to  R.  u.  E.  Carlos  turns  towards 
the  tomb  of  Charlemagne. 

DON  CARLOS. 

Ascendant  shade ! 

Have  I so  far  invoked  thee  not  in  vain  ? 

Uphold  me  now  in  the  momentous  toils. 

The  thronging  cares,  a dense  and  mighty  cloud. 

That  suddenly  approaching,  daunts  my  pride 
And  lours  upon  my  grandeur.  I implored  thee 
Greatly  to  guide  me  through  my  awful  trust. 

And  thou  hast  whispered  me,  “ Begin  with  mercy.” 

[Tableau. 


L Boiison 


i 


ACT  V. 


Scene.  — A wide  and  magnificent  terrace  in  the  Palace  of  Arragon 
at  Saragossa,  bordered  by  a balustrade  which  crosses  the  stage, 
adorned  with  Moorish  arcades,  beyond  which  are  seen  the  gardens, 
with  fountains,  bowers,  etc.,  illuminated.  In  the  centre  is  a broad 
flight  of  steps  leading  to  the  gardens.  The  palace,  with  Gothic  and 
Arabian  embellishments,  also  illuminated  on  the  R.  u.  e.  ; moonlight. 

Don  Henriquez,  Don  Matthias,  Don  Eicardo,  and  other 
Young  Nobles  come  forward  from  L.  u.  E.,  conversing 
with  hilarity. 

DON  HENRIQUEZ. 

By  the  imperial  crown  of  King  Carlos,  this  is  a feast 
worthy  of  a prodigal’s  return,  and  of  the  generosity  of  an 
emperor. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

In  sooth  is  it ; worthy  at  once  to  celebrate  a wedding 
and  a coronation,  a feast  that  has  studded  all  the  win- 
dows in  Saragossa  with  bright  eyes,  a feast  that  has  set 
every  young  foot  and  every  old  heart  dancing  with  joy. 

DON  RICARDO. 

Yes,  and  a few  heads  reeling,  into  the  bargain. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

And  let  decorum  wink  at  it.  Never  was  measure  filled 
to  braver  lord  or  fairer  lady. 

DON  RICARDO. 

Who  would  have  dreamed  our  eavesdropping  expedi- 
tion among  the  rogues  and  rebels  was  to  end  in  this  ? 
I thought  it  much  their  captain  escaped  with  his  head. 


76 


HERNANI. 


DON  HENRIQUEZ. 

He  has  proved  an  overmatch  for  us  all,  — even  for  the 
veteran  campaigner,  Don  Leo,  who,  in  my  mind,  for  gen- 
erosity and  forbearance,  transcends  the  King  himself,  and 
bears  his  disappointment  like  a sturdy  old  soldier. 

DON  RICARDO. 

Not  so  sturdily  as  you  may  imagine.  You  see  he  has 
not  attended  the  celebration  of  the  wedding. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

T is  true ! though  the  Emperor  sent  a special  messen- 
ger to  enjoin  his  presence.  But ’t  is  time  we  thought  of 
absenting  ourselves  also.  Hymen,  methinks,  beckons  us 
away ; and  not  a guest  of  us,  I am  confident,  but  will  vote 
his  entertainment  superlative. 

DON  RICARDO. 

I beg  your  pardon,  I suspect  one  black  ball. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

From  whom  ? 

DON  HENRIQUEZ. 

I guess ; he  means  the  black  domino. 

DON  RICARDO. 

I do. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

The  black  domino  ? 

DON  HENRIQUEZ. 

Why,  have  n’t  you  remarked,  overhung  with  rainbow 
garlands,  and  surrounded  by  dames  and  cavaliers  in  all 
their  brilliant  varieties,  a spectre  in  black,  leaning  with 
folded  arms  against  a column,  in  grim  and  sullen  majesty, 
like  Pluto  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  Styx  ? 


HERNANI. 


77 


DON  MATTHIAS. 

I saw  him  not. 

DON  RICARDO. 

I marked  him  well.  Hush  ! here  he  comes. 

[77ie  Black  Domino  enters,  L.,  and  gloomily  crosses  the 
stage,  absorbed,  and  not  appearing  to  notice  them,  and 
disappears  by  the  flight  of  steps  R.  U.  E.,  every  eye  fixed 
upon  him. 

DON  MATTHIAS. 

Whoe’er  he  be,  he  carries  it  admirably. 

Watch  him,  Henriquez. 

DON  HENRIQUEZ. 

He  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  terrace,  and  now  he  disap- 
pears in  the  orange  grove. 

DON  RICARDO. 

He  has  my  consent  to  disappear  altogether. 

Enter  Donna  Zanthe  and  Hernani,  hand-in-hand,  L.  u.  E., 
their  noble  guests  and  masks  ranged  to  do  them  honour. 
A salutation  of  music. 

HERNANI. 

Dear  friends,  accept  my  grateful  thanks. 

ZANTHE. 

And  mine, 

From  an  o’erflowing  heart. 


DON  RICARDO. 

Your  happiness 

Among  us  all  hath  circulated  freely. 

HERNANI. 

You  and  your  friends,  I hope,  are  well  bestowed 
Within  the  palace,  long  to  be  our  guests. 


78 


HERNANI. 


DON  IIENRIQUEZ. 

While ’t  is  the  Emperor’s  pleasure ’t  will  be  ours. 
A happy  rest  to  both. 


HERNANI. 

Be  yours  untroubled. 

Again  we  thank  you ; and  good  friends,  farewell. 

YTlie  company  disperse,  R.,  accompanied  hy  strain  of  music, 
which  gradually  dies  away  ; and  during  the  following, 
the  lights  are  extinguished  and  all  is  hushed.  Hernani 
and  Donna  Zanthe  remaining  alone. 

HERNANI. 

At  length  we  are  alone  once  more, 

The  festive  glare  grows  dim,  the  nimble  foot 
Drags  weary  to  its  rest.  The  song,  the  minstrel. 

The  busy  tongue  of  mirtb  and  gratulation,  — 

All,  all,  are  bushed,  and  we  abandoned  wholly 
To  the  sweet  silence  of  our  heart’s  content. 

Oh,  solitude  most  welcome  ! 

ZANTHE. 

Even  so ; 

Eor  ’mid  the  blaze  and  burry  of  our  fortunes 
I yet  have  seemed  as  one-but  half  awaken’d 
From  hideous  dreams,  o’erdazzled  by  the  light 
That  strives  to  break  them.  Now,  assured,  I feel 
My  disenthralment  and  my  happiness. 

HERNANI. 

Proudly  I hear  you;  yes,  the  cloud  is  past. 

Snatched  from  impending  wreck,  our  hopes  are  now 
Harboured  in  peace  and  love.  And  now,  bethink  thee. 
The  falling  dews  may  harm  thee. 


HERNANI. 


79 


ZANTHE. 

How  good, 

How  tender  art  thou,  my  beloved  Hernani ! 

HERNANI. 

Hernani ! Such  a man  I know  there  was. 

In  discontent  enshrouded,  gloating  on 

His  own  dark  thoughts,  and  loving  nought  beside. 

And  call  you  me  by  his  unhallowed  name  ? 

I am  Don  John  of  Arragon. 

The  husband  of  the  noble  Donna  Zanthe, 

Envied  and  happy ! 


ZANTHE. 

Fortune  is  but  just  to  thee ; 

These  rich  habiliments,  this  badge  of  honour, 

Who,  with  a better  grace,  may  claim  to  wear  ? 

HERNANI. 

Still  you  forget  my  counsel.  Will  you  not 
O’ertask  your  spirits  ? 

ZANTHE. 

Yet  one  little  moment ; 

These  stealing  tears  are  not  from  weariness. 

One  look,  one  parting  gaze,  on  this  fair  scene  — 

\From  the  balustrade. 

My  noble  Duke  of  Arragon,  come  hither. 

Inhale  the  breeze  awhile  from  yonder  hills. 

Thy  sleep  will  be  the  sweeter.  How  profound 
The  calm  is  now  become.  All  Nature  watches, 
Enamoured  of  our  loneliness,  to  guard  it. 

With  what  a fragrance 

The  rose  and  orange  flower  embalm  the  air! 

Elysium ! and  behold,  the  moon  hath  tarried 


80 


IlERNANI. 


To  shed  her  first  mild  lustre  o’er  this  hour. 

Living  for  such  a moment,  is  it  not 

To  live  for  all  that  mortals  may  dare  hope  for  ? 


You  droop. 


HERNANI. 

ZANTHE. 


Methinks  I do,  and  feel  as  if 

Soaring  too  far  above  the  common  lot 

I needs  must  fall ; this  calm  seems  now  too  deep, 

And  sad.  Could  I but  hear  a nightingale 
Warbling  in  mystery,  one  knows  not  where, 

A lover’s  lute,  or  — 

\_The  distant  sound  of  a horn  is  heard,  R.  U.  E 


HERNANI  (startled  with  terror'). 

What  appalling  sound 
Is  that  ? 

ZANTHE. 

Some  spirit  hears,  — our  guardian  angel. 

HERNANI  (with  inward  bitterness). 

Yes,  ’t  is  our  guardian  angel.  [Horn  sounds  again\  Ah 
again. 

ZANTHE. 

’T  is  thine  own  signal ! 


HERNANI. 

Do  you  recognise  it  ? 

ZANTHE. 

I do. 

IlERNANI  {aside). 
And  so  do  I.  [Horn  repeated. 

ZANTHE. 

Again  1 Who  is  it  ? 


HERNANI. 


81 


HERNANI  (wildly). 
A tiger  howling  for  liis  prey. 


My  lord ! 

ZANTHE. 

HERNANI  (with  fearful  emotion). 
Call  me  Hernani ! Still  Hernani ! now 
That  name  alone  is  mine  for  ever ! 

ZANTHE. 

You  are  distracted.  On  my  knees  I charge  you 
Tell  me  the  secret  of  thy  thoughts. 


I have  sworn  — 

HERNANI. 

ZANTHE  (loatching  him  anxiously). 

Sworn  what  ? 

HERNANI  (raising  his  hand  to  his  forehead,  and  recovering 
himself). 

Nay,  nothing.  I know  not  what  I say. 


You  said  — 

ZANTHE. 

HERNANI. 

No  matter  what.  My  brain  is  troubled. 

I am  not  well ; but  let  it  not  alarm  thee. 

ZANTHE. 

Let  me  seek  something  . that  may  relieve  thee. 

[Horn  repeated. 

HERNANI. 

Ere  this  it  should  be  done  — oh  ! 

VOL.  XIII.  — 6 


82 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE. 

You  are  suffering  keenly. 

HERNANI. 

Aye,  of  an  ancient  wound  I thought  had  healed; 

But ’t  is  envenomed  newly.  [Aside.^  She  must  leave  us 
Listen  ; there  is  a coffer  I have  always 
With  me. 

ZANTHE. 

There  is  ? Contains  it  that  will  soothe  thee  ? 


HERNANI. 

I recollect  it  does.  Desire  thy  page 
To  seek  and  bring  it  hither. 


ZANTHE. 

’T  is  an  office 
For  me  alone. 

HERNANI. 

And  this  is  then  the  lot 

The  emperor  in  his  magnanimity, 

My  Donna  Zanthe  in  her  matchless  love. 

Prepared  for  me.  Amid  the  festal,  lo  ! 

The  finger  on  the  wall,  and  in  the  bower 

Of  bliss  I lead  an  angel  to,  a demon 

Waits  me ! A desperate  life  I pledged  to  him; 

How  different  is  the  coin  in  which  I pay 
The  fatal  debt ! Y"et  all  is  still  again. 

Perhaps  (Heaven  grant  it !) ’t  was  the  sound  deceived  me. 
[Z7ie  Mask  in  the  black  domino  appears  at  the  end  of  the 
terrace,  R.  Hernani  shrinks  at  the  sight,  and  stands 
petrified. 

DON  LEO. 


“ Whate’er  befall  me,  at  whatever  time. 

Or  place  thou  would’st  demand  my  life,  ’t  is  thine. 


HERNANI. 


83 


And  claim  it.  Only  sound  this  horn, 

I sha’n’t  mistake  it,  and  thy  will  be  done.” 

This  compact  by  the  noble  dead  was  witnessed, 
Yet  performed  it  is  not. 


HERNANI. 

’T  is  he. 

DON  LEO. 

I claim  my  right. 

HERNANI. 

Take  it.  I am  prepared. 

DON  LEO. 

I am  no  executioner.  Proud  honour 

Pays  its  own  debts,  nor  waits  disgraceful  seizure. 

HERNANI. 

Show  me  the  means. 

DON  LEO. 

They  are  not  wanting.  I 

Come  both  to  claim  and  share  thy  sacrifice. 

And  bring  a potion  which  will  deal  quickly  with  us. 
Or,  if  thou  wilt,  a dagger;  make  thy  choice. 

And  the  alternative  be  mine. 


The  poison. 


HERNANI. 
DON  LEO. 


Thou  ’rt  prompt,  and  bravely  wilt  give  up  the  soul 
Of  a Castilian  nobleman.  ’T  is  here.  [Gives  iti] 
Thy  hand.  Now,  mercy  for  us  both ! Drink  thou, 
And  I will  strike.  Dost  shrink  ? 


HERNANI. 

I do. 

Thy  claim  is  sacred,  I disown  it  not ; 


84 


HERNANI. 


Yet,  if  thou  ’rt  human,  art  not  more  than  fiend. 
Only  till  to-morrow 

Eemit  thy  claim.  Strike  not  this  icy  horror 
To  the  warm  bosom  of  an  innocent  bride, 

But  grant  one  day  for  lenity. 

DON  LEO. 

Ha  ! ha  ! ha ! 

To-morrow  ! Am  I for  thy  mirth  ? Think’st  thou 
The  raging  fire  that  feeds  upon  my  heart 
Will  leave  its  pulses  beating  till  to-morrow  ? 

Shame  on  thy  trifling  ! Fate  is  urgent  with  me, 
And  we  must  die  together. 


HERNANI. 

Demon  ! — hence  ! 

DON  LEO  (tauntingly). 

Why  so  ? 'T  was  but  an  oath. 

Pledged  by  the  honour  of  thy  ancestors,  — 

Thy  father’s  and  thine  own. 

HERNANI. 

Yet  for  thy  name  man,  the  world  thou  livest  in  — 


DON  LEO. 

I deal  with  it  as  it  has  dealt  with  me. 
Art  thou  a slave,  a liar,  and  a coward. 
Or  the  legitimate  Duke  of  Arragon  ? 


Art  thou  — 


HERNANI. 


DON  LEO. 

I am  a rock  the  whirlwind  stirs  not. 
Confront  thine  infamy  or  die  ! 


HERNANI 


85 


HERNANI. 

No  more. 

This  do  I quaff  to  thine  eternal  torment. 

[(roes  to  drink,  when  Donna  Zanthe  enters  L.,  suddeidij. 
She  speaks  as  she  enters,  then  observes  him  with 
surprise. 

ZANTHE. 

I found  it  not.  What  drug  is  that  ? You  shudder. 

My  voice  affrights  thee.  Here  are  some  dark  doings 
Thou  would’st  conceal  from  me.  Still  silent. 

[^The  Mask  strikes  her  attention,  and  discovers  himself. 

Ah! 

Horrible  vision  ! wherefore  are  ye  met 

Thus  secretly  ? He  brings  thee  poison  1 Speak  1 


I cannot. 


HERNANI. 


ZANTHE. 

Cannot  ? Am  I not  thy  wife  that  thus 
Thou  deal’st  with  me  in  dreadful  mystery  ? 
I must  be  told  the  truth. 


HERNANI. 

And  art  thou  doomed 

From  me  to  hear  it  ? I sold 

My  life  to  him,  when  it  was  cheaply  bartered 

For  present  safety,  and  reserv’d  in  trust 

To  save  thee  from  dishonour.  ’T  was  my  bond. 


ZANTHE. 

An  impious  bond ! 

HON  LEO. 


An  oath, — 

A soldier’s,  and  a noble  Spaniard’s  oath. 


86 


HERNANI. 


A devilish  oath. 

An  oath  inviolable. 


ZANTHE. 

HERNANI. 


ZANTHE. 

A vain,  a guilty,  and  a damning  oath  ! 

Tremble,  both. 

Idolaters  ! an  earthly  god  you  worship 
In  mockery  of  the  Great  Eternal  {Draws  a daqqer^  Lo  ! 
[To  Don  Leo.] 

My  fears  have  armed  me,  and  thou  know’st  me  not. 

Am  I not  of  thy  race  ? Thy  wrathful  blood 
On  thee  I ’ll  prove.  My  father  had  assail’d 
My  husband’s  life  at  peril  of  his  own. 

As  thou  dost.  No  relenting  word?  Forgive  me ! 

[Throws  away  the  dagger,  and  falls  at  his  feet. 
Alas  ! Alas  ! Have  pity  on  us  both  ; 

I am  a fond  weak  woman,  and  my  heart 
Still  yearns  to  love  thee  as  it  ever  loved. 

I am  subdued,  and  at  thy  feet  implore  thee. 

Spare  him.  Have  pity  on  us  both  ! 


HERNANI. 

Canst  thou 

Thus  humble  thee  in  vain  ? The  fiend  is  smiling. 

ZANTHE. 

A smile  of  mercy,  of  compassion.  Look  ! 

[Alluding  to  Hernani. 

Behold  him  in  his  bravery  ! And  canst  thou 
Kill  him  for  loving  me  ? ’T  is  past  recall. 

I ’m  sworn  to  him. 


And  he  to  me. 


DON  LEO. 


IIERNANI. 


87 


ZANTHE. 

Let  him  — 

Let  him  do  flintiest  penance,  but  not  die. 

HERNANI. 

Delude  thee  not, 

Dishonoured  must  I live,  or  here  must  die 
DON  LEO. 

The  choice  perplexes  thee. 

HERNANI. 

Thou  liest ! 

[Raises  the  poison,  Zanthe  still  opposing. 

ZANTHE. 

Hold  ! 

Oh,  hear,  yet  hear  me  both,  ye  cruel  men ! 

I am  a wife,  and  to  a dying  husband 
Would  ease  a bursting  heart. 

DON  LEO. 

Be  brief.  We  wait. 

ZANTHE  {bewildered,  hanging  on  him). 

A moment. 

Ivet  me  say  all,  and  then  I shall  be  strong. 

[Leaning  on  Hernani,  she  convulsively  grasps  the  poison. 
I have  it ! Slay  him  now  some  other  way. 

DON  LEO. 

Woman,  farewell ! The  power  is  left  me  still 
To  trumpet  forth  thy  shame  on  earth,  and  then 
To  tell  this  tale  among  thine  ancestors. 


88 


HERNANI. 


HERNANI. 

Yet  stay  ! \^To  Zanthe.]  Be  firm  and  hear  me.  My  proud 
Zanthe, 

Lofty  of  soul  as  beautiful  of  form  ! 

Shall  I then  live  to  bear  about  the  brand 
Of  perjury  and  dastard  fear,  disgrace 
Nobility,  endure  the  taunting  finger 
That  marks  me  out  a recreant  to  my  name. 

Outcast  of  honour,  and  the  stain  of  knighthood, 

’Till  even  thyself  despise  me  ? No,  I charge  thee. 

By  the  pure  passion  of  our  hearts,  restore 
The  poison ! 

ZANTHE. 


These  are  solemn  words.  Awhile 
I will  consider  them. 

[Retires  a little,  suddenly  drinks  of  the  phial,  and  then 
presents  it  to  him. 

Drink  now. 

HERNANI. 

What  hast  thou  done  ? 


DON  LEO  {horror-stricken). 

Was  it  for  her  ? 

HERNANI. 

]\Iurderer,  dost  shrink  at  last  ? 

It  is  too  late. 

ZANTHE. 

Be  satisfied  ; thy  share 
Is  left  thee.  Hadst  thou  done  as  much 
For  me,  thou  selfish  lord  ? But  I ’m  content. 
Now  sacrifice  thee  to  thy  phantom  god. 

HERNANI  {gazing  in  anguish). 

A death  so  fearful  — 


HERNANI. 


89 


ZANTHE. 

No,  ’t  is  nothing  fearful. 

We  ’ll  sleep  together  still,  soundly  and  sweetly 
As  on  our  bed  of  down. 

HERNANI  {to  Don  Leo). 

Still  I forget  thee. 

[Drinks  and  throws  away  the  phial. 
Now  revel  in  thy  work. 

ZANTHE  {clinging  to  hini). 

Didst  drink  it  ? Would  thou  hadst  not. 

’T  will  gender  in  thy  heart  a nest  of  vipers. 

They  are  here  with  tongues  of  fire.  And  now ’t  is  ice,  — 
A drowsy  chill.  Dost  thou  not  suffer  ? 

HERNANI. 

Nothing. 

ZANTHE. 

Then  lay  me  down  to  rest,  and  come  thou  too, 

[She  sinks  gently  dovm  in  his  embrace. 
Thy  bride  looks  somewhat  pale,  I fear ; but  thou 
Still  lovest  her  ; in  thy  arms  she  still  will  rest. 

And ’t  will  content  her. 


HERNANI. 

These  pangs  ! Yet  hers  are  soothed. 

ZANTHE. 

Where  art  thou  ? 

’T  is  dark,  but  soon  we  shall  ascend  together 
To  realms  of  light. 


90 


HERNANI. 


HERNANI  {becoming  faint). 
Dark  — dark,  indeed,  hath  been 
My  doom  ; yet  all  I prayed  for  at  the  worst 
Was  thus  to  die,  my  lips  upon  this  hand. 


DON  LEO. 

Die,  die,  that  I may  hear  no  more ! 

ZANTIIE. 


My  love ! 


HERNANI. 


I ’m  dizzy  — and  thy  sufferings  ! 


They  ’re  happy  I 


ZANTHE. 

Gone,  — 

Quite  gone. 

HERNANI. 


Then  all  is  well  — ’t  is  mercy  — oh ! 


Before  me  ? 


ZANTHE. 


[Falls  and  expires. 


Dead ! 


DON  LEO. 


ZANTHE. 

No,  no. 

He  sleeps.  Thou,  angry  Duke,  awake  him  not. 

He  is  my  husband  — this  our  bridal  bed. 

Hush  — trouble  not  our  dreams  — near,  near. 

[Ttcrns  his  face,  and  draws  it  towards  her. 

And  now  — 

Good  night.  [Dies. 


DON  LEO. 

Dead  ! dead  ! and  smiling  still. 

AVithin  there  ! ho ! A murderer  in  the  palace  I 
The  rack  ! The  rack  ! 


* 


I , , 


IIERNANI. 


91 


Enter  Don  Henriquez  and  Don  Mkiirnks,,  followed  hy 
the  other  guests,  s.  R.  E. 

DON  LEO. 

Flames ! 

Flames  I and  the  rack  ! Torture  my  limbs  — and  ease 
My  soul.  It  is  too  late. 

[Gasps  and  expires  in  their  arms. 
Tableau  — solemn  music  — and 


CURTAIN. 


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